


Hannibal: Rising

by ChangeTheCircumstances



Series: Hannibal: The Continuation [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins Movies), Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris, Hannibal Rising (2007)
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, Gore, Hannibal Rising adapted into the Fullerverse, Hannibal Season 4, Hannibal's past, M/M, Murder Family, Post Silence of the Lambs, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Violence, dark!Will, with Hannibal (Book) and Hannibal (Movie) elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10037030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeTheCircumstances/pseuds/ChangeTheCircumstances
Summary: Hannibal finds himself content with the life he's built. However, the death of an old friend has Hannibal doubting himself for the first time in a while as he realizes he could lose his family again.





	1. Gabija

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for everyone who has read this series! For those joining for the first time, this can be read as a standalone but it is built off of the last stories so if you're curious as to how the characters got to this moment, please read those to fill in the gaps.
> 
> The titles of each chapter will be based around a Lithuanian pagan god because the story mostly focuses on Hannibal and his past.
> 
> As for the coverart I really like the idea of Nichole Beharie as Clarice so I'm sticking with her still.
> 
> Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

                                                

They had been in Argentina for a little over three years now. It was a fine place to live with diverse scenery and culture, but Hannibal missed Europe and he still wished to show Will and Abigail Florence. Of course, that journey would still be a ways down the road as the memory of Il Mostro was probably still fresh in the peoples’ minds.

In general though, they had discussed the idea of leaving. Will didn’t seem to mind where they ended up while Abigail had a million and one ideas floating in her head. Hannibal hoped he had the chance to show her them all.

For now they were content with Argentina, though they weren’t in their usual home by the beach. Instead they had spent the last week up in a cabin they had rented last year up in the mountains. It was just after midday and outside was practically sparkling thanks to how the sun bounced off the snow. Will and Abigail were in the middle of a snowball fight with Precious and Liz running between them. However, Hannibal had chosen to take after Orten, remaining in the living room instead, the cat by his side.

Hannibal casually petted him as he flipped through different news outlets on his iPad. It was always a good idea to see if anyone seemed to have a lead on where he and Will were but so far nothing. Otherwise, it was simply important to know what was occurring in other parts of the world, particularly if they chose to move soon.

He mainly focused on information flowing out of the US and Europe but something pulled him to Japan that day.

Memories came to him that he had not thought on in many years. His eyes read over the characters, some familiar, some not. He was much better practiced in European languages but didn’t look to translate any he didn’t recognize as he was still able to garner the importance of each article.

At least he didn’t until one news story caught his eyes. A feeling washed over him that he had not felt in some time, hot and painful.

Fury.

He stared at the two images next to each other, one a censored mess, the other a cropped version of an older photo that Hannibal had once seen daily on the wall of a stairway.

Looking up the kanji he needed to, the story slowly pieced itself together. It was brutal and personal and for the first time in a long time, Hannibal found doubt falling on him. He had thought that part of his life had been finished, locked away and buried. The story didn’t necessarily have to be connected to him but Hannibal found he could not bring himself to believe that.

He wondered if Chiyoh had heard. She would shed a tear over her lost employer for she had loved her dearly, even when she had been excused from her service. Hannibal simply sat there, wondering if he would do the same.

But none came as the images remained clear and intact. His love for her had slipped away in the passing years and though the memory was bittersweet, he found that he was not saddened by the loss of life in particular nor even angry. He had learned long ago that dwelling on what-ifs and the past did no one any good. It was the implications, what her death and the way she had died could mean, that had Hannibal’s blood boiling. In a different time, the murder would be little more bother than a buzzing fly.

That was not the case anymore.

There wasn’t just himself to worry about now. He had a family that for the first time since leaving the US, he realized he could lose again.

The cold fingers falling upon his neck and collarbone brought him out of his mind as he felt Will rest his chin on the top of his head.

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know,” Hannibal lied. “I found her while browsing the news.”

“Something interesting in Japan?”

“It is a wonderfully intricate culture, though I will say I have never been.”

“Hmm, could be fun if we did go,” Will said as he stood up straight. “I’m going to go clean the dogs and then Abigail is going to attempt to wow us with her cooking skills.”

“I look forward to it,” chuckled Hannibal.

However, the ease and smile dropped away as Will left the room. His eyes turned back to the article and he went about finding other news outlets in Japan that had gone over the same story. However, little more was offered up and so far there were no witnesses to the crime.

Hannibal snapped the cover of the iPad shut, Orten jumping up and away from the sudden noise. Hannibal ignored the cat as he walked towards the kitchen. However, upon seeing Abigail completely engrossed in her work, Hannibal went up to the second floor and the main bedroom. Knowing Will, washing the dogs would take at least a good thirty minutes if not more considering all the attention he gave them. That meant Hannibal had plenty of time without worrying of being interrupted.

He called Chiyoh and she answered right away. Her voice wavered enough that Hannibal knew she had already taken time to mourn.

“You know then,” Hannibal simply said, his voice soft as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Yes. I was contacted a day ago.”

“So there truly is no one else?”

There was a pause and Hannibal imagined she had shaken her head before remembering they were on the phone. “No family left. Her estate is being broken up, mostly amongst charities and organizations of her choice. Her will made it clear that I was to be contacted in the event of her death. I think she knew I would get the information to you.”

“And yet it is I who called you.”

“Hannibal, we don’t know that—”

“No, we don’t know what her death is connected to,” Hannibal interrupted, his voice growing harsh. He realized why Chiyoh hadn’t called. “You wouldn’t have ever told me.”

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

“And I thank you for the actions of the past but this is not something I will forgive so easily. Where are you now?”

Silence stretched between them.

“Chiyoh, I will not ask again.”

“I’m headed for Japan.”

“So then you don’t think this was an unrelated incident,” Hannibal replied evenly. “Report back when you know something.”

“Hannibal, you shouldn’t—”

“If you tell me what I should and shouldn’t do again, I will cut out your tongue,” Hannibal interrupted, his voice remaining perfectly even. “I am not some thoughtless teen who needs guidance.”

“I am sorry I implied as much. It is not my place to demand you to do one thing or another.”

“No it is not. Tell me what you find out when you arrive.”

“I will—”

“Goodbye Chiyoh.”

Hannibal didn’t wait for her own farewell. His mind immediately fell into itself, going back to the now dulled and broken memories. He had once said that forgetting was necessary for a healthy mind, something he still very much believed. However, now his mind burned as it conjured the faces of the men and what they had done.

He saw the two faces together, one alive and breathing, their images somewhat warped by a child’s terror. The other faces were very real, eyes sometimes bulging out, throats slit, eyes lifeless.

The only after image that was not dead was Milko. His face showed itself behind bars, just as Hannibal had left him when he’d left Chiyoh.

Perhaps actually going through his mind palace would show something more helpful.

Hannibal felt the cathedral of Florence form around him, his mind palace as detailed as the actual building. However, he left the beauties of Italy and walked into his office. Ghosts of he and Will passed by, discussing different cases, in session, destroying his patient’s files. He moved through his former home and then stepped through a set of doors that hadn’t physically been there.

He walked into a familiar main room and looked to the largest painting on the wall, a portrait of his uncle and aunt. His eyes swept over the ornate stairs and the priceless images. It was tempting to go further but Hannibal turned around again, walking out the same doors he had come in. However, what greeted him was not his Baltimore home but a harsh winter landscape.

The winds cut him to the bone as he headed for the servant’s quarters, the only visible structure in the sea of white. If he turned to his left, he could have headed back to the estate but even in his mind he didn’t dare.

When he was finally upon the small structure, its image did not fully form. The detail wasn’t all there unlike the other rooms in his mind.

Walking in, the only thing of clear detail that flashed at him were the faces of the men and that of his sister. His younger self did not show a face however, the eyes and orifices replaced with a single mass of flesh. Hannibal watched in silence as Mischa was ripped from bone thin arms, her screams as piercing as the day he heard them.

His eyes turned back to the men, searching their faces. Each one was dead, all by his hand except for Milko who Chiyoh had killed. At least, that’s what he had thought.

“Dinnertime!”

Abigail’s voice brought Hannibal out of his thoughts as he returned to the cabin. With a sigh, he stood up. He would just have to wait for Chiyoh to call. Hannibal walked back down to see Abigail setting the table while Will was chasing Precious with a towel in an attempt to properly dry her.

His eyes moved over them. It was a family that he had attempted to destroy himself, multiple times for his own survival. Now having them whole and complete, all a part of each other, he didn’t think he could do that again.

When Abigail looked at him, he smiled, the first forced expression in many months.


	2. Perkūnas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you again to everyone reading this! This chapter ended up being what most of my research went into as it took quite a lot of time to figure out how to exactly transfer Hannibal's past (since it happened during WWII originally and now takes place in the seventies). Anyways, a big thank you as always and I hope you enjoy :)

It was several days later when Chiyoh called again. They had already gone back to the beach house and thankfully neither Will nor Abigail were around.

“What did you find?”

“She wasn’t just stabbed,” Chiyoh replied. She hesitated before telling what she had learned. “Capital M’s were carved into her chest. Repeatedly. She died from the wounds.”

Hannibal breathed evenly through his noise. “And the man who did it?”

“The police are still looking. As am I.”

“Thank you Chiyoh. I apologize for my rudeness earlier. It was uncalled for.”

“No, I’m sorry I tried to keep it from you,” she murmured. “It was wrong of me.”

“Thank you for that. Call me the moment you discover something.”

“I will. Good bye Hannibal.”

“Good bye.”

* * *

 

Will knew Hannibal was asleep. Because of that, he finally rolled over and looked at the smoke that danced beside him. It had been steadily growing, more and more when they’d left the cabin. Now it was all encompassing, falling over the skin and covering Hannibal’s entire form.

A hand roamed towards it but the smoke curled away, repulsed by his touch.

Anger had steadily been building in Will, something which he only let out in moments when he was alone and far away from his family.

He didn’t understand how Hannibal could do this. They were conjoined now, equals, and yet he was trying to hide something from him. Will didn’t know the details but he did know something was there, growing and darkening. Whatever it was, it concerned Will. It concerned their family, and yet Hannibal hadn’t said a word.

Will had even walked in on him while he was trapped in his mind. Hannibal had never left himself so vulnerable, usually Abigail’s or Will’s own approach enough to alert him no matter how quietly they moved. And yet Hannibal had remained separated, not even aware of Will’s breathing.

And the smoke had grown.

And Will wondered if it would continue until a gust of wind came and blew it all away, allowing Will to see that the past three years had been built on nothing.

Worry grew with his anger as well. He didn’t know what Hannibal would do next, didn’t know what was happening in his mind for the first time in a long time. He hoped that Hannibal would admit something, anything to him, that Will would find that they still trusted each other.

But Hannibal said nothing and wore that horrid mask that he somehow thought Will couldn’t see. Will wished Hannibal would break first, wished that he would finally come clean, but the smoke was to much. Every time Will touched him, it felt like Hannibal would disappear like a mirage and the not knowing was deafening.

He broke first because of that. As he walked into the living room, Hannibal greeted him as he looked up from his book and Will allowed his own confusion and anger to finally filter into his voice. “Dr. Lecter.”

The pain that flashed across Hannibal’s face was clearly a surprise to both of them. The jab was small but effective. Yet Hannibal still managed his composure as he asked, “Is there something you’d like to ask me Will?”

“Yes. Yes there is,” Will growled out. He clenched his fists to keep himself from moving forward, from doing something rash like kissing or punching the man. “What the fuck are you hiding?”

“I don’t think this situation calls for that kind of—”

“No! You are not pushing this aside and packing this conversation with filler words! You’re hiding something Hannibal. Not only that but you had the audacity to think you could hide it from me.”

He watched as Hannibal closed the book and set it to the side. Hannibal took a moment to silently decide something before looking back to him.

“Yes, I have been keeping information from you.”

“I already know that. What I want to know is what the hell it is,” hissed Will.

Hannibal stood up with a sigh and moved forward. He moved as if to caress Will’s face but Will caught his hand before he could. As he held it there, Hannibal murmured, “I apologize for any distress I have caused you Will. It was not my intention.”

“Then what was?”

“I only wish to keep you and Abigail safe.”

“From what? Wouldn’t we be safer if we were aware of what we had to fight off?” asked Will. “I’ve laid myself bare for you over and over again.”

“Are you asking me to do the same?”

“I thought you already had,” Will replied, finally letting go of his hand. “Clearly I was wrong.”

They looked at each other for a time, both searching for something. Will knew that Hannibal had made a decision though when the smoke suddenly dissipated, leaving Hannibal standing as he had before.

“I have told you very little of my past because it did not pertain to what I am now, nor what I have built with you and Abigail,” Hannibal said. “But something has occurred which makes me believe it is not as dead and buried as I had once thought.”

Will let out a sigh, the tension rolling off of him. “Why keep it from me then if it involves us now?”

“I don’t think I wished for your image of me to change,” Hannibal admitted softly. “And some foolish part of me thought I could save you by separating you from it.”

“And what is it?”

Will watched carefully. Hannibal didn’t answer, not with his words, but Will understood now why he had neglected to say anything. Hannibal didn’t know what was after him. At least not the details.

“Tell me,” Will murmured, taking a step closer. “Tell me what’s going on and we’ll find out together.”

“I think such a conversation requires Abigail’s presence as well. I was not fair to either of you,” Hannibal said.

“Then I’ll call her,” Will replied. “No more secrets.”

Hannibal gave a small nod. “No more lies.”

* * *

 

It had never been Hannibal’s intention to tell anyone of his past. Chiyoh had found out much of it because they had grown up together for a time and she had worked for his aunt. However, Hannibal supposed it was fitting that he told Will as well, the only person Hannibal suspected would understand.

They sat around the dining table, Abigail there as well. He said, “To understand the danger that I believe is present, I should tell you of my past.

“I was born in Lithuania in 1965. It was the middle of the Cold War and the Lithuanian government was controlled by the Soviet Union. The country was divided on whether or not to fight back, meaning nothing occurred on a national level but underground movements did form in the hopes of fighting off the Soviet control. My father was the head of one of those movements.

“When he was found out, four supporters of the Soviet Union decided to dispatch my father and mother in the hopes it would elevate them through the ranks. The plan was found out and a warning sent to my father. However, it was received to late to save him, but also soon enough that he had a fighting chance. What should have been a quick execution turned into a blood bath as not only did my mother and father die but our servants as well. Only the butler survived as he ran with myself and my sister, Mischa, to the servant’s quarters, a good three miles away. There was a car and phone there that he hoped to use to get help. However, we were followed and the butler was killed before anyone could be called to add to the fight.

“As to whether to kill my sister and I, there was some argument over that. We were witnesses and two of the men believed we shouldn’t live because of what we had seen. During all this, the weather had continually worsened and when the men couldn’t decide, they decided to keep us hostage in the servant’s quarters and to stay the night, waiting out the storm.

“The storm did not let up though. The temperature continued to drop and the snow continued to fall. The men, who foolishly did not think ahead, ran out of food. The phone lines were down, the roads closed, and the temperatures so cold that if one had attempted a trek to the main house, they would have frozen to death.

“Because of our isolation and the need for food, the men killed and ate my sister.”

It was there that Hannibal finally paused and looked to Abigail and Will. Abigail’s face suggested conflicting emotions of horror and understanding and pity which made Hannibal’s stomach curl unpleasantly. His face turned to Will and saw that his emotions were not there. It wasn’t that he was hiding them. He was simply looking at Hannibal with an almost clinical nature, analyzing him. The roles were reversed in that moment and Hannibal nearly laughed in amusement.

“Did you eat her?” Will asked.

And just as Hannibal had suspected, Will knew and understood.

“Not knowingly or willingly, but yes,” Hannibal replied.

Silence moved over them as Abigail covered her mouth with her hands. Will simply cocked his head to the side, face blank.

“I managed to escape not long after that. I was lucky that the storm had eased by then and that I was found by a local farmer or I would have likely perished.

“Due to what happened I was unable to speak for some time and lost my memories. I was sent to an orphanage for several years before I was finally recognized. Afterwards I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle where I eventually came out of my shell. My uncle passed away not long after that and Lady Murasaki, my aunt, moved to France with me where I began my schooling in medicine.”

Hannibal gave them a few more details though he avoided the story of Momund the butcher. It wasn’t like he was ashamed. The memory was quite an enjoyable one in regards to the rest of his early life. However, explaining what exactly happened would simply take to much time.

“Eventually I was able to recover a part of my memories through a drug, recalling the faces but unable to remember the names. As I tried searching for the men, it seemed luck was on my side. As I asked Lady Murasaki to help me locate the belongings of my estate since it had been broken apart during my time in the orphanage, it turned out that some of the men had also stolen works from it. At one of the auctions I was discovered. Afraid that I would recognize them, one was sent after me but I succeeded in killing him instead.

“Before I killed each one, I got the name of the next man, and I continued until I found Milko. He was the man you found in the cell. I didn’t kill him upon one condition: that Chiyoh give up her life to keep guard on him. I did not expect her to agree but she did.

“Then I left for America and I believe you know where the story picks up from there.”

Abigail looked like she wanted to say a great many things but Hannibal was thankful she held her tongue. He didn’t want her pity and hoped she’d be able to step back and not let her view change. Will’s eyes narrowed however, putting the pieces together as he asked, “That article you were reading…you lied. You did know the woman.”

“Yes, she was my aunt.”

“How was she murdered?”

“In the same way that I killed the man Grutas,” Hannibal replied.

“You don’t think you killed all of them.”

“No.”

“And now he’s after you, even though it’s been over thirty years?” asked Abigail.

“If he was simply after me, I’m sure there are other ways he could have succeeded,” Hannibal replied. “No, he wants to find me but he’ll do it in a way that leads to the largest body count. I suspect that if I’m right about all this, he’ll be targeting Chiyoh now.”

Will looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You’ve sent her after him.”

“Yes.”


	3. Milda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to those reading this! Hope you enjoy <3

Abigail was horrified that Hannibal could have sent Chiyoh to her death. Will on the other hand was just mildly annoyed. He believed Chiyoh could take care of herself and knew that Hannibal believed that too, but if she did die then it would simply show just how dangerous the man was. Chiyoh would never give up their location but that didn’t mean she didn’t have information on her that could lead the man there.

What Will was more worried about though was picturing Hannibal. It wasn’t like his entire view of Hannibal had changed, but neither was it the same man that Will had met in Baltimore. It was exactly what Hannibal hadn’t wished to happen and now Will was associating doubt and uncertainty with a man that from the beginning he had called his paddle, his guide.

Will had walked away after Hannibal’s story, taking the time to think on such things. When he came back, Hannibal was still talking to the fairly distressed Abigail, and Will found himself stepping into the shoes of Dr. Lecter.

“You either truly don’t believe that those events changed you,” Will murmured as he walked in, “or you’re ashamed that you had to be created in the first place.”

“Nothing made me,” Hannibal stated, voice firm and resolute.

Will didn’t argue but that didn’t mean he fully agreed either. In a way, he still looked at Hannibal and saw the same man. He even better understood why Hannibal had attempted to kill him and Abigail multiple times, why he had tried to eat his brains. He hadn’t been able to protect Mischa but at the very least he could rationalize that she lived because of him. That’s what he had tried to do with Will, make him into the pure form that Will refused to admit to.

It was different from the cannibalism of any everyday human. The people that walked around them were simply the same as how a butcher saw a hog, their most significant benefit being that of sustaining the life of something greater than themselves. Did that act of killing come from the traumatizing childhood? It didn’t quite match up but Will still wasn’t sure.

“So there was Grutas, Milko, Grentz, and Dortlich,” Will instead said as he finally sat down. “And it was Grutas who you carved the M’s into his chest.”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t recall any other face or name?”

“Believe me Will. I have tried.”

“But why wait so long,” murmured Abigail. “It’s been years since this happened.”

“Without knowing who it is, I cannot say,” Hannibal replied. “Perhaps something has occurred in the man’s own life to lead him to such action.”

“You mentioned how the men had gotten aliases and had created whole knew lives for themselves,” commented Will. “Perhaps he had a family to live for but now he doesn’t.”

Hannibal nodded in agreement at the idea. “And so he turns to unfinished business in his past to bring meaning to his life once again.”

“But what are you going to do?” asked Abigail.

“It depends on what Chiyoh finds.”

The unspoken words were that he wouldn’t run though. Will could tell that whoever this person was, whatever their reasoning, Hannibal would finally finish it. He wondered if it would cost Hannibal anything, what this venture could take from him and what it would add to the complexities of Hannibal’s psychosis.

Will remained silent as Abigail talked with Hannibal, asking if they would go after the mystery man or try and wait it out. Some argument occurred when Hannibal said that he wouldn’t allow Abigail to get involved to which Will agreed. Though not his daughter, Mischa had been under his protection and he had failed her (Will imagined it was the only act in his life that he considered as such), and if the mystery man found out about Abigail she would be a prime target, a repeat of years past.

Still, Will wasn’t surprised when Abigail stomped out and Hannibal’s eye twitched in response. She needed time to reflect on what had been said, when her emotions weren’t clouding her own judgment and she understood that what Hannibal said was right. So for now, Will did not go after her and neither did Hannibal, likely coming to the same conclusion.

Looking over though, Will said, “Wherever you go, so will I.”

“I cannot—”

Will stood up and walked around the table. He leaned against the edge of it and looked down at Hannibal. The dynamic was changing, the floor underneath them rocking like a ship on the waves. There was a time when Hannibal had held all the power, when there had been strings tied to every section of Will’s body. And then it had flipped. He had played Hannibal like an instrument though his own indecisiveness had ended that song in a horrendous clash of melodies. Eventually they had fallen into equals of each other though. No longer were they two sides of the same coin. They had become mirrors, reflecting the other’s face.

Yet now Will felt power coursing through him again only he didn’t quite relish in it. Before, they had carried the same power to undo the other, yet now Will could see cracks forming that could break Hannibal down. Perhaps before he had forgiven Hannibal, when he hadn’t realized the emotion he felt towards him was love, he would have become drunk on such power. Now it left a bitter taste in his mouth as he stared at a scared little boy rendered mute from trauma.

“I’m going with you,” Will stated. “Whether it be to Japan or Europe or wherever, I’ll finish it with you.”

“You are as much a potential target as Abigail is.” The words ‘more so’ remained unspoken but Will knew how Hannibal’s mind worked. He knew that, though an unlikely situation, Hannibal would always choose him over anyone in the world besides himself of course. However, Will wouldn’t be so easily deterred.

“Your past is mine,” Will replied, the words an attempt to take power away from himself. He wanted them to be on equal footing again, how it should be. “I’ll help you find out who he is, what happened to your aunt, why he’s resurfaced now of all times, all of it. And then we can bury this permanently.”

He half expected Hannibal to fight him on it. He wanted him to, to knock Will down a peg while bringing himself up. But Hannibal did neither and simply nodded in understanding.

“It will be good to put this behind us as soon as possible.”

Will couldn’t agree more but it still wasn’t the response he was looking for. It wasn’t just a want now but a need to be made equal to Hannibal again and when the man stood up, it wasn’t enough.

“Grentz wasn’t your first kill. Was he?”

Hannibal looked at him curiously, clearly wondering where the conversation was going. He didn’t seem surprised that Will knew his first kill hadn’t been the men that had killed his sister though. That was good. It meant they were still connected.

“His name was Momund. Momund the butcher,” Hannibal said as he searched Will’s eyes.

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Why did you do it?” asked Will.

“He insulted my aunt. I wasn’t going to stand for it.”

That was the Hannibal Will knew. He grasped onto the idea, pushing away the image of the traumatized boy with that of a healthy teen, the beginning. “Show me.”

Hannibal moved in a flash, his hand latching onto Will’s throat. Will felt his entire body hitch up, the instinctual reaction to fight against the tightening hand and the fact that he was losing air making his body twitch and try to flail about. However, he managed to keep still as Hannibal whispered, “I crushed his windpipe with a single strike.” Will felt his body trembling as he kept from fighting back. “He fell to his knees as he struggled for air.”

Hannibal’s fingers dug into his skin, quickly turning painful as Will felt his knees give. Hannibal let go, letting him fall as he moved a hand through Will’s hair.

“I took my aunt’s sword and cut off his head in one clean strike,” Hannibal whispered as Will’s head rested against his thigh, his shoulders heaving. “It was the smoothest thing I’d ever cut through, parting like butter.”

Then he went to his knees as well and Will was able to look Hannibal in the eyes again.

“I made a dinner out of his cheeks,” murmured Hannibal as he dug a thumb into Will’s. “My aunt had his head put on a spike while I was being interviewed by the police to remove suspicion.”

“Why…why did she help you?” Will managed, his voice hoarse and broken.

“I promised her I would not kill again,” Hannibal replied. “I lied.”

Will felt Hannibal’s hand drop to his neck again, squeezing as he forced his tongue between his lips and into his mouth, drawing out his oxygen and making his vision go black.

Hannibal’s voice remained though as he finally moved away and let go. “I know what you are testing Will.”

His throat still burning, all he could manage was an indescribable grunt.

“I will prove it if I have to, but remember that you are and will be my only equal.”

Will managed to nod, letting his head fall against Hannibal’s shoulder as he rested there and slowly breathed in and out. It was what he’d wanted, to feel on the edge of death, to see the power that he’d always associated with Hannibal. It didn’t perfectly fix Will’s image but it was better than nothing.

He remained there on the kitchen floor, arms like noodles and resting against Hannibal’s chest. He didn’t move when he heard a phone ring though he could feel Hannibal shift underneath him to get at it.

“What have you found Chiyoh?”

Will’s eyes flickered open and glanced at the phone in Hannibal’s hand. It was on speaker, Chiyoh’s voice coming through.

“The police have a description now from video footage. White male, average height, mid-sixties. I’ll send you a copy of his picture. The police are currently trying to track his movements now.”

“Thank you for that Chiyoh. Please inform me when you find out more.”

“I will.”

The call ended and Will leaned over, waiting to see the man that had supposedly killed Hannibal’s aunt. The image was grainy and without color and only marginally better than an eye-witness testimony. Will shifted so that he could better look up at Hannibal.

“Do you recognize him?” he croaked out.

“No,” Hannibal murmured. He looked at the image for a moment longer before turning it off and slipping the phone into his pocket again. He moved to stand and gripped Will tight, pulling him up as well. His fingers floated over Will’s neck, gentle, but Will still winced at the touch.

“The mute child you see was a temporary form. It was neither a step in transformation nor the struck match that created me. I was myself before that cold winter, I am myself now, and we are still on equal footing Will.”

Will nodded, the words comforting and better than a simple statement. “Don’t lie to me again,” he whispered.

“I will not,” Hannibal said. “When I did, it was an error in judgment. From here on out, you will know everything I do.”

“Thank you.”

Will meant it as he felt that he could properly breathe again. In regards to Hannibal’s past and the mystery man, there was still plenty more that Will needed to discover to fully understand Hannibal again. However, he felt they were on the right track and once the entire thing was put behind them, Hannibal’s image would be whole once more.


	4. Aušrinė

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for those reading this. Enjoy <3

A full day passed without word from Chiyoh as everyone tried to slip into something akin to normal. Hannibal spoke with Abigail, making sure she understood the danger she would be in if the man knew of her. After some more arguing, they eventually came to the agreement that she wouldn’t be kept out of the loop. However, if Hannibal and Will had to leave, she was to stay there, safe and away from the man.

From there, Hannibal attempted to sketch, a pastime that usually calmed him and distracted his mind. Yet he found nothing really drew him to any image and he felt no passion to recreate some beautiful building from his mind palace. Will seemed to take note that he wasn’t able to fully relax when he suddenly forced himself into his lap.

“I was working William.”

“You were staring at a blank sheet of paper,” Will retorted. “But if it’s inspiration you’re lacking, I think I’ve found something much better. There’s word of our favorite FBI agent.”

The mild annoyance disappeared at that. Though Will was far more fascinated with Clarice Starling than he, Hannibal did enjoy what news came from her and did look forward to the possibility of some day meeting her. He cocked his head to the side in curiosity, waiting for what Will had to say.

“It seems she’s made a misstep in her three year career,” Will said, flicking through his phone before looking up at Hannibal again. “It was a drug raid that went wrong. She shot and killed a meth dealer.”

“I would imagine even in the law’s eyes that’s not a particularly worrisome loss.”

“Apparently several people managed to slip through the FBI’s hands because of it, more than they would have liked. It doesn’t help that the dealer was carrying a child too.”

“Did it die?” asked Hannibal.

“No but the drug dealer was HIV positive. The child didn’t contract the virus but it’s still something for others to latch onto.”

“Did she lead the operation?” asked Hannibal.

Will frowned slightly. “No, which honestly just makes it more confusing. It doesn’t say who ran the operation but it wasn’t her.”

“Any comment from uncle Jack?”

“He retired, remember.”

“Ah, it’s odd not thinking of Jack and the FBI as one and the same anymore.”

Will chuckled in agreement. “The head director has made some bullshit statement that’s not really siding with anyone and is really just trying to get the media off his back. There’s been a lot of comments made by another agent though, Paul Krendler.”

Hannibal made a distasteful face as he recalled the name. Though he’d thankfully never met the man, he had kept an eye and ear open for the rather ambitious FBI agent while living in Baltimore. It seemed the man played dirty, was selfish, and was equally hated as well as revered by his colleagues. Hannibal had heard even more about him thanks to Will’s updates on Clarice. It seemed that the man followed Clarice like a plague. He was likely the reason the botched raid was on her shoulders at all.

“I’m assuming nothing good,” Hannibal said, remarking on Krendler’s comments.

“Nothing,” Will agreed. “The hearing isn’t until next week. For now she’s on temporary leave.”

“Hmm, a shame to see her career damaged so soon. We should send her our condolences.”

Will nodded. “I wish I could go there and…I don’t know. Help in some way I guess. It’s just Krendler in particular pisses me off. It’s like he has some kind of vendetta towards her that I just can’t grasp.”

“I imagine it’s because she is what he cannot be,” Hannibal replied. “Someone who has faced down creatures of the night, used them to her advantage, and even managed to save the damsel in distress from a monster.”

“You make her out to be some kind of knight.”

“Isn’t that what all little boys and girls aspire to be? The hero of their own story?” asked Hannibal.

Will’s amusement quickly dropped as he asked seriously, “Is that what you wanted?”

“Yes, though perhaps not in the typical way,” Hannibal answered. “I wanted to be known, a name on everyone’s lips.”

“I suppose you’ve got what you wanted then,” said Will, a light laugh escaping his lips as he relaxed again. “So, you think Krendler wants to be known as well? I think I could fix that for him.”

“Going back to the states isn’t exactly ideal,” Hannibal told him. “It likely never will be.”

“I’m just hoping to help her,” sighed Will. “Besides, it’s enjoyable thinking about that ass finally getting what he deserves.”

“That may be so but I wouldn’t set your heart on it,” Hannibal said with a pointed look. “Though I must admit, I’m extremely curious of what Agent Starling’s reaction to the whole thing would be.”

Will grinned at that, the thought clearly amusing him.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration moved through Hannibal. “I think I finally know what to sketch.”

“Do I inspire you Hannibal?” teased Will with an impish smirk.

“In horrendous ways,” murmured Hannibal before he kissed Will. As he pulled back, he gave Will a curious glance and asked, “Am I fully formed once more for you?”

Will shook his head though. “There’s something that…I’m just not seeing yet.”

“I have told you everything Will.”

“Everything that you know. You still can’t remember the mystery man’s face.”

Hannibal bowed his head in compliance to that.

“I think…I think I’ll find it eventually. And once I do, I’ll fully see you again. It’ll just take some work.”

“Then I am glad you think it worth wild to spend so much time on me.”

“There’s not another person I would rather use it for,” Will smiled before leaning in for one more kiss.

* * *

 

Clarice stared at Krendler as she resisted the urge to punch that horrendously smug expression off his face. It had appeared after the failed raid and now it seemed to never go away, at least not whenever she was around.

Every time she had to re-give her statement or listen to his once more she wished she could pull her teeth out or her hair or-again-just punch the man.

She had spoken with Crawford briefly but since he was retired, there was nothing that could really be done on his end. Ardelia was stuck god knows where on some case and she knew Jimmy and Brian were busy with a string of murders in Connecticut. All she had was Krendler and he was the last person she wished to have as a companion.

Her only solace was getting back to her apartment, locked away and cut off from the world and the FBI that had turned against her.

Once home, she moved to the room that she hadn’t entered in some time and began to look over the photos and articles. A few were recent but almost all were months, if not years, old. Will and his family had only become better hidden with time.

Of course, there was still a taskforce looking for him and Hannibal and Abigail Hobbs, it had dwindled to practically nothing when it was clear they weren’t getting any results. She felt as if they would never be caught and that the people still working towards that were wasting their time.

So what exactly was she doing?

Clarice honestly wasn’t sure as she sat down, her eyes traveling back to the _Tattle Crime_ article regarding Hannibal and Will’s disappearance after the Red Dragon had fallen. Lounds had been the first to theorize that the duo had still been alive. She had coined the term Murder Husbands. She had broken the story about needing one sick mind to catch another.

She was right to believe they were out there. She was wrong to believe they would kill each other before the FBI got to them. Lounds seemed to think that Dr. Lecter’s relationship with Will would end in bloodshed. Clarice believed that too, only a different type of bloodshed than Lounds believed.

Clarice found a photo of Will during his second trial, right before she had gone to see him in regards to Buffalo Bill. She looked at the blank expression there, the ill fitting court suit, the handcuffs. Such a look was so wrong and Clarice suspected that he would rather die than be imprisoned again.

She didn’t really want either outcome, and it was that confusing thought that had remained with her for years now. Despite her friends and work, Will Graham had been her one constant companion, even if he didn’t know it. She needed to see him again.

If that day ever came, Clarice had no idea what she would do but the pull was there and all she could do was follow it. It was the only way if she was ever to find peace.

With a sigh, she forced herself up and out of the room, going to her fridge which she sadly found empty. She thought about just ordering pizza but she honestly wanted something of substance now. Besides, cooking might at least calm her and distract her mind.

She headed out, the first thirty minutes of the trip going well as she drove to the store and went through the aisles. However, her shopping experience was quickly soured upon seeing a familiar face. It wasn’t like she was a celebrity, even with the press coverage of the botched raid she didn’t usually get supporters or haters coming up to her. However, there was always one face that seemed to follow her more than Krendler’s.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Mrs. Lounds, this is highly unprofessional, even for you,” Clarice bit out as she pushed her shopping cart forward. She hoped that Lounds wouldn’t follow though she honestly wasn’t surprised when she did.

“I haven’t been stalking you if that’s what you’re referring too,” Lounds replied evenly. “However, I’m sure you would like your own story to be told, wouldn’t you?”

“I have told it, multiple times, to the FBI,” Clarice said, somehow managing not to raise her voice. She focused again on getting the last two items she needed, quickly adding a case of beer to that list.

“The public still regards you as a hero you know. They would be with you if you simply let them in.”

“The public barely even remembers my name,” hissed Clarice. It wasn’t like she cared about fame or being well known though she was sure that was how Lounds took it. She was simply on edge and Lounds’ presence wasn’t helping. “They care more about what the politician’s daughter is wearing than the agent that saved her.”

“Maybe for now but you’ll come back into the public eye again and when you do, I could help you.”

Clarice steered her buggy towards a checkout line. “If you’d like to help me, then you can start by leaving me alone.”

“If I did, other reporters and journalists would only go after you.”

“If you’re trying to rationalize this as protecting me or some shit then it’s not working. Being the poster girl for _Tattle Crime_ doesn’t exactly help my reputation.”

“And it didn’t help the poster boy either. Though I suppose in the end he’s just fine with that,” said Lounds.

Clarice didn’t have to ask who she meant. She focused on putting her groceries on the conveyor belt. However, Lounds kept talking.

“Have you heard anything from Will Graham?”

“Why ask me?” growled Clarice.

“Well, you’re on a first name basis with him as our last little conversation proved.”

Clarice closed her eyes and internally groaned at that. She’d forgotten that slip up. She started putting the bagged groceries into her cart as Lounds kept prattling on.

“Perhaps you’re getting letters from him. Have you turned those over to the FBI?”

Clarice paid and quickly pushed the cart away and out of the store as Lounds continued with her theories and her ideas. She kept following, kept talking, and after every bag was in the back, Clarice just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mrs. Lounds, I feel it’s important to remind you that though I may be on leave, I still own a gun and I still have the right to use it.”

She didn’t think about the implications or how Lounds would almost certainly write about it. She just got in her car and drove back home. However, the idea of making a nice little dinner for herself no longer appealed to her as she simply took a beer and headed to her bedroom.

The TV droned on in the background but Clarice didn’t pay attention to any of it, finishing the bottle and passing out with the hope that sleep would shield her from the world.


	5. Verpiančioji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you as always! Hope you enjoy <3

“They’ve found a name, Zachariah Kennedy,” said Chiyoh as Hannibal, Will, and Abigail crowded around the phone. “From what I’ve found, it’s not a simple alias either. This man has an entire life built up in the US.”

Another day had passed and Chiyoh had finally contacted them, thankfully still safe.

“And the police?” asked Hannibal.

“From what they’ve tracked down, he flew back to the US before he was identified. Knowing how difficult a collaboration between governments could be, and the fact that it’s one woman with no family to bother the authorities with, I suspect any chance of actually going after Kennedy will be minimal.”

Hannibal silently nodded as he thought about what to do. If the man had flown back to his home, it could mean multiple things. However, the most likely chances were that he hadn’t gained anything from Lady Murasaki’s death and was starting at square one again, or that he had something or someone back in the states that required looking after, regardless of whether he’d discovered anything or not. If it was the latter and Hannibal was able to find that pressure point, he could make the man come to him rather than waiting for something more to happen.

Will’s thoughts clearly mirrored his as he said, “Then we flip the game on him and we become the hunters.”

“Wouldn’t it be dangerous, going back to the states?” asked Abigail.

“Yes, but the commotion this man could cause would be far more dangerous,” Hannibal said. “Better to find and finish it quickly.”

“You don’t have to do this Hannibal,” Chiyoh cut in.

Hannibal could tell she meant killing the man, not just looking for him. “No, this is something I need to do myself. Chiyoh, I wish for you to stay with Abigail in the time that Will and I are gone.”

Abigail’s mouth dropped open, clearly ready to argue the fact. However, Will thankfully said, “You have grown into your skin and I don’t doubt you can protect yourself. However, I think I and Hannibal would be much happier knowing you were not alone.”

She let out a disgruntled sigh. “Just don’t forget to call,” she finally said. “I want to make sure I know what’s going on.”

“We will,” Hannibal said just as Chiyoh added, “Then I will head to Argentina now.”

“Thank you for your help Chiyoh,” Hannibal said before the call was ended. Now came the time to prepare for heading back into the states. Getting in actually wouldn’t be as tiresome as getting out. However, they needed a starting point once there, a place to begin their search.

Will seemed particularly excited about his suggestion. “We could see Clarice.”

“And how do you know she won’t turn us in immediately?” asked Hannibal. “Our capture could put her in good graces with the FBI again.”

“We’ll make up a story. Something which will make her put aside the handcuffs, at least for a time. You compared her to a knight in shining armor after all. We’ll simply create her damsel to be saved. Besides, even on leave she has resources that could be extremely useful to us.”

Hannibal knew that Will’s idea could work and would certainly minimize the risk. Ultimately though, he agreed simply on curiosity, wondering how Will would act around Clarice and what she would do.

They left before Chiyoh arrived, saying goodbye to Abigail and Will taking extra time with the pets. They then took a plane up to Mexico and from there got a boat to the US. It was honestly amazing just how blind people became when time was involved. If he’d even asked one of them to describe himself or Will, only the vagueness of descriptions would likely be made from the everyday person.

That and simple changes like hair and clothing always did wonders for distracting people. The images that most associated with himself or Will were that of prison suits and civilian clothing certainly helped to deflect that image.

During the trip over, Will took great pleasure in playing multiple parts, stringing along stories, forming different skins to hide behind. Hannibal let him do most of the talking in that instance, enjoying the ridiculous stories that fellow passengers lapped up while simultaneously thinking on Zachariah Kennedy.

Obviously Hannibal didn’t expect to recognize the name in any way, shape, or form. Nevertheless, it bothered him that a fifth person wasn’t coming to him in face or name. Now somewhere in his late sixties, Kennedy would have been the youngest out of the group of men. He would have likely been the most impressionable.

Or maybe the most kind.

The thought was a surprising one and had Hannibal stopping on the thought. He tugged at it and looked to see if it would lead him anywhere. However, the strand suddenly stopped, showing him nothing.

It seemed he would have to wait for answers upon meeting Mr. Kennedy.

* * *

 

Clarice couldn’t believe how utterly stupid she’d been. After Lounds had printed those blasted words, she’d gone from the frying pan and straight into the fire. Her one small mercy was that she hadn’t been outright fired. Still, being on unpaid leave wasn’t exactly the best thing in the world.

At the very least, she wasn’t alone. Ardelia had finished her current case and had flown all the way back, taking up residency on her couch before Clarice could even say anything. Ardelia still very much had her own apartment, but she claimed that Clarice shouldn’t be alone at the moment hence the move.

Clarice was thankful for it, even if she had initially been against it. Now Ardelia had just gone out to grab something for them to eat and Clarice was taking her moment of solitude to look through her mail. As she put the bills aside for later and threw away the trash, her eyes fell on a letter with no return address.

Looking at it curiously, she began to open it up when she heard the door open again.

“You forget your keys?” asked Clarice as she pulled out the letter. She didn’t take note of the lack of silence, her focus being fully taken by the words. She’d skipped to the bottom of it to see who had signed it and she felt herself freeze at the name.

“I’m glad you got it, even if it is a bit redundant at the moment.”

She didn’t dare move, eyes still fixated on the signed name. It had to be a trick, her mind messing with her, failing under the stress. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She slowly turned around before opening them again and saw—

Nothing.

Yes, stress, it had to be. She let out a sigh of relief only for her body to go on high alert as she felt the couch shift next to her.

“Clarice, I am very much real if that’s what you’re having trouble with.”

She didn’t want to look over, knowing full well what she would see. If he was going to kill her, she didn’t have a chance. Her gun was across the room and nothing sharp lay on the table. All she had were her hands which she curled into fists.

“Clarice—”

Throwing her elbow to the left of her, she could tell her move had been predicted as she felt a hand grab her. She struggled and managed one hard strike to the face before she found herself on the floor, arms pinned above her and a body weighing her down.

She finally looked into Will Graham’s eyes.

“Really Clarice, is that any way to treat a friend?” asked Will with a warm smile.

His hair had grown out a bit and he’d shaved recently. Other than that, it was the same man Clarice had seen behind bars years ago.

“If I let you up, are you going to attack me again?”

“Are you going to kill me?” She knew the answer before he even said it yet she wanted to hear it from his lips anyways.

“No.”

“Then I won’t attack.”

Will nodded, satisfied with her answer as he let go of her wrists. He moved off her and Clarice quickly sat up. However, Will had not made to stand so they sat on the ground, for a moment just staring at each other.

“If you’re not here to kill me…then why.”

“I need your help Clarice.”

She hadn’t expected that. Her eyes turned to the letter which had fallen on the floor.

“I wrote that before I realized I’d be seeing you so soon. I’m sorry by the way, about what’s happening with the FBI,” Will said with absolute sincerity. She knew that he wasn’t trying to play with her in that moment. He truly was hurt by the recent events. “I know what it can feel like to have that organization against you.”

Clarice felt like she could have kept talking to him, that they could have kept going, just sitting on her living room floor. However, she ignored that curiosity and asked, “Why would you need my help?”

“There’s a man that Hannibal and I are looking for. He…” She watched his face turn pained and desperate. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Abigail Hobbs.”

She nodded. After Abigail had been broken out of a hospital in Arizona, news had quickly spread of her being alive as her picture went up with Will’s all over the news and people were asked to keep an eye out for her. That was how Clarice found out what deal Crawford had been forced to make with Will.

“What of her?” asked Clarice.

“This person we need to find, this man, he’s taken her,” Will murmured. For a moment, Clarice thought he’d hit her, rage and anger boiling off of him. However, he managed to rein it in and said, “Please.”

The desperation was very much real but Clarice couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“Clarice, I can’t let Abigail die. Not again. We have no idea where to look and you were the only one that I could think of.”

Again, there was a great amount of truth there. Clarice didn’t doubt for a second that there was information being withheld and neither did she know how involved Abigail was with Will or Hannibal (some believing her to be fully innocent while others thought her completely guilty). However, Clarice wouldn’t let a girl just die but neither could she bring herself to say yes.

“I need to call the—”

“There isn’t time for that,” Will murmured. “If it meant you’d save Abigail, then I would turn myself in but you and I both know they’ll care more about getting me locked away than saving her life.”

Clarice did know. Besides, they wouldn’t take Will’s word for it and would ask for evidence that, even if he had, would take away time from finding Abigail. She should have asked for that evidence as well but a part of her said she didn’t need to. Whatever Will was keeping from her, the man he was after did need to be found desperately.

And after Abigail was safe, then what? Clarice knew she couldn’t be the one to cuff Will. She’d rather shoot him than see him behind bars again. So would she do that? Or would she manage to break away from the thoughts that had ruled her, that had convinced her that she was somehow connected with him.

She didn’t know and likely wouldn’t know until she was finally faced with the decision. However, all she said was, “What do you need?”

“So far we have a name, Zachariah Kennedy. He’s an older man, mid-sixties possibly, white, and his records likely show he’s an immigrant from Europe, probably came over in the eighties or nineties.”

“That’s still pretty broad information.”

“I know,” sighed Will, “but it’s the best I have at the moment. If you can help us, you can find us here.” She hesitantly took the card that he held out to her. “We’ll be there for the next three days.”

Finally Will stood up and held out his hand. Clarice took it and he pulled her up, finally showing a smile once more. She still couldn’t help but stare wide eyed at him though, cataloging his shirts and pants, jacket and light tan.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been where you are. This is very much real,” Will murmured.

Turning back to his eyes, she expected amusement to be there but all she saw was understanding and kindness. She supposed that if anyone knew what questioning reality was like, it was Will Graham.

“I’m trusting you with this Clarice.” She realized they had been holding hands the entire time when Will squeezed hers and finally let go. “But I have to say thanks for even listening to me. I hope you do find something.”

And with that, Clarice watched Will walk out of her apartment and out the door. She shook her head, thinking for sure that she had completely lost her mind. However, upon looking down, she saw that the card with an address written on it was still very much real as was the remaining warmth of Will’s hand.


	6. Žiezdrė

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you as always! I hope you enjoy <3

“I still don’t understand why you need this,” sighed Ardelia.

It had taken a pretty good deal of convincing before Ardelia finally agreed to look up the information Clarice needed. She could have gone in and looked up the information herself but she knew everything she did was probably being monitored and she really didn’t need that kind of attention at the moment.

Thankfully Ardelia had helped her though the questions were still numerous.

“I mean, who the hell is this guy? And why are you so interested in him? According to our records he’s never even committed a crime.”

“It’s a pet project I’ve had on the side,” Clarice lied. “Might as well do something with all this free time.”

Ardelia shook her head. “But what the hell kind of project is it?”

“I’ll tell you if I find anything.”

“Come on Starling, don’t be a tease.”

“I thought that was why you liked me,” chuckled Clarice.

Ardelia simply rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. “Whatever. You have fun with that while I’m at work then. They don’t have anything lined up for me that should take me far away so I should be back for dinner tonight.”

“You know, you don’t have to stay here right.”

For the first time Ardelia’s cheerfulness actually faltered. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“What? No! No I just…you don’t have to look after me Ardelia. Either this will blow over or…it won’t and I’ll figure something else out,” sighed Clarice.

“I just don’t want you to be alone right now, alright?”

“I know and I really appreciate that. And honestly, I don’t mind you staying here. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to be here.”

Ardelia smiled. “No need to worry about that. And since you’ve just assured me that I’m not a bother, I’m inviting Brian and Jimmy over for dinner to. No buts. I know us hanging out together will definitely cheer you up.”

Clarice didn’t get a chance to argue as Ardelia quickly left and Clarice was left with the folder.

With a sigh, she began to go through it, the profiles of multiple people actually being printed out. There were only five, the search already narrowed far more than Clarice would have thought. The one that stuck out to her the most was a Zachariah Kennedy that had immigrated from France and didn’t have a middle name. It was that lack of a middle name that struck her as odd for some reason. She couldn’t explain why but she felt that he should be the one they looked into first.

Because of that, she read his whole file rather than skimming it like the other two. What she found was shocking and suddenly had several pieces falling into place. She had wondered why this man had specifically targeted Will and Dr. Lecter, why he would take Abigail.

Now she had a reason, a reason that Will was likely looking for.

She pulled out the card again and looked at the address. It was a motion that she had done almost constantly in the past two days to simply remind herself that her confrontation with Will had been real. Now she had to decide whether or not to go to him. Technically if she just waited one more day, he should be gone and he’d be out of her life again.

But Clarice thought of Abigail Hobbs and how she wouldn’t be able to sleep if the woman died. At least, that was the conscious factor in it. A much darker one that Clarice didn’t admit to was that she simply wanted to, to see what would happen. That darker part didn’t look at the laws and moral codes and the FBI. She simply had to know.

Because of that, Clarice finally put on her coat and grabbed the files and her gun. Getting in her car, she headed to the address, about three hours outside of the city. It gave her plenty of time to think and to doubt herself. Several times, she almost turned around or even called up Ardelia or someone in the FBI and explained what she knew. However, as she drew closer, the need to follow through with the meeting only grew as well.

Eventually, she started heading through a small, spread out town with her location only ten minutes away. It turned out to be an abandoned gas station and Clarice forced herself to remain even as a small part of her wondered if it had all been a trick.

However, she turned off her car and remained sitting there. Minutes ticked by and soon half an hour was gone. It was just after noon and her stomach was beginning to growl when she was shocked to see a car pull up. Her hand automatically went to her gun and didn’t move from there when she saw Will get out.

There was apparently nobody with him and at the very least no weapons. He gestured her over and Clarice quickly pocketed her keys as she stepped out of the car.

“Thank you,” Will said, again looking at her with utter sincerity. “I was worried that you wouldn’t come.”

Now that was an outright lie. Clarice wasn’t sure how he could have known before even she knew, but he had. “You knew I would come.”

“Alright, maybe I did,” chuckled Will. “I’m still glad you’re here though.”

He turned and went back to his car though he paused when he realized Clarice wasn’t following him. “Come on.”

She held out the files with one hand. “This is what you needed. Why would you want me to come with you?” She of course wanted to. She already felt invested and wanted to see it finished but she wouldn’t budge until Will answered her.

His eyes seemed to focus on something else as he chose his words carefully. “Honestly…I’m not sure. But I enjoyed our banter during Buffalo Bill’s reign of terror. I would hate for this to be our last conversation after three years of silence.”

So would Clarice but she didn’t say that. Instead, she slowly moved to the other side of the car, quickly checking the backseat and trunk to see if it was empty. Only then did she finally get in. Her hand no longer rested on her gun but she didn’t allow herself to relax either. Will didn’t seem to mind as he quickly texted something to someone and then drove back onto the road. Silence stretched between them for an almost uncomfortably long time to which Will finally turned on the radio to some backwater station.

It at last gave Clarice a reason not to talk as they drove. About another thirty minutes ticked by when Will turned onto a road leading up to an incredibly large house. Clarice glanced over.

“I didn’t kill the residents,” Will assured her. “They’re on vacation at the moment.”

There was truth in his words and Clarice was at least able to hold onto that.

* * *

 

Hannibal had received the text. It seemed Will might find a chance to help Clarice Starling after all. He looked forward to finally meeting her but for the moment turned his mind to Kennedy and his own past. Over the past week and a half that it had taken to get there, he had pushed further and further into his mind to try and figure out who Kennedy had originally been.

The idea that he had been kind in some way especially stuck with Hannibal. He hadn’t mentioned that fact to Will yet, still trying to figure out what it meant on his own.

He’d called Chiyoh and Abigail and was pleased knowing they were both safe and getting on well enough. Chiyoh had also continued getting information from the Japanese police through a contact but so far she didn’t have anything else that could help them.

Suddenly Hannibal noted the sound of a car pulling up. With a quick glance, he saw it was Will and Agent Starling. It was the first time he’d seen her with his own eyes. She moved with a power and fierceness that he rarely saw in others. She kept her hand near her gun, eyes flashing around as she cataloged everything. She was still wary but Hannibal noted not of Will. Interesting.

He went to the hall and waited for them to enter, leaning against the wall as they did.

Clarice’s reaction was instant, dropping the folders in her hands and pulling out her gun. However, Will stilled her with a single hand as her eyes looked at them, wide-eyed and uncertain.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent Starling,” Hannibal said as he walked over. He held out his hand. When she didn’t take it, he added, “Please Agent Starling, don’t be rude.”

It was amusing seeing the shiver pass through her as she quickly holstered her gun and shook his hand.

“Dr. Lecter.”

“You may call me Hannibal if you like,” he replied before letting go. Glancing down at the fallen and scattered papers, he said, “Let me help you with this.”

She quickly dropped to her knees as Hannibal did the same, pushing the papers into folders. As they did, Hannibal noted that Clarice didn’t avoid eye contact as much as her body screamed she wished to. She understood where she was and how perilous this visit could be for her. Yet there was an innate curiosity there that seemed to override the fear, to push aside the ethics she built her life on—

Any thought of Clarice suddenly dropped out of his mind as his eyes caught sight of a photo. He pulled it out and quickly got to his feet. He walked away for a moment, turning his back on Will and Clarice as his eyes roamed over the image. The eyes, he remembered those eyes.

“This is the one,” Hannibal stated, making sure his voice didn’t betray any hint of emotion. He turned and handed it back to Clarice.

“I thought so too,” she quickly said.

Will looked at her curiously.

“Not only did he not have a middle name which just kind of stuck out but also—”

“Hold on. I almost forgot to do something,” Will said.

Hannibal knew exactly what it was and watched in curiosity at the panic that moved through Clarice. Will simply smiled, murmuring a quick, “I’ll be right back,” before he headed towards the back of the house. It was a good idea, remaining hidden from the oncoming threat.

Clarice’s hand fell back to her gun. Hannibal simply smiled and said, “It may not be home but I find it is never a bad thing to be hospitable towards guests. Please, let’s sit in the living room.”

She slowly nodded though she didn’t move until he went first. Hannibal appreciated her wariness. It showed that she wasn’t plagued with naivety. She fully understood who he was and what he was capable of. However, her curiosity and the need to help (Will had told him the tale he had spun to her) overruled the act of calling the FBI or turning them in.

“So, why do you think he’s struck out at us?” asked Hannibal. He knew exactly why the man was doing it but he was curious as to what information Clarice had found.

“You…you killed his son.”

“Did I?”

She nodded. “Technically it was the Red Dragon but I’m sure he blames you too. When you escaped with Will Graham, he was one of the police officers tasked with transporting you. He was killed in the escape.”

That was not what Hannibal had expected. However, he now had the trigger point, what had caused Kennedy to finally come after him after all this time. He suspected that the delay however, nearly five years now, was simply because the man had not decided right away that he’d go up in arms. It had likely taken time for him to go through the grieving process only instead of falling on acceptance he had decided on action. Then it would have of course taken time for the man to even find Lady Murasaki and her connection with him.

“Do you want to know what else he did?” asked Hannibal as he cocked his head to the side. He was about to give her information that few knew but he saw his own curiosity mirrored in her. He wanted to know how she would react.

“You mean you know him?” asked Clarice with clear surprise. “But I thought the whole reason I was doing this was to help you find him.”

“We still need that help. When I knew him, it was decades ago and under a name I have since forgotten.”

“You were a child then.”

“Yes.” It was amusing, watching Clarice try and picture him as a child, as anything else other than what sat in front of her.

“How?”

“He ate my little sister.”

She jolted, shock running through her body. However, horror or disgust never quite took her. Instead she murmured, “So it’s a tale of revenge. Like what you did with Bedelia Du Maurier. What you did to Abel Gideon and manipulated Will into doing to Frederick Chilton.”

Hannibal smiled at the thought. “I assure you Clarice, whatever was done to them will be nothing compared to what I do to this man.”


	7. Audros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always and I hope you enjoy :)

Will had noted the person that had followed Clarice there. He also hadn’t been blind to the car still following them and had made sure to remember where the man had turned off before they arrived at the house.

He left Clarice with Hannibal, knowing that he’d likely want to have a moment to pick her brain apart on his own while Will went and took care of their unexpected guest. The plan was to kill the man immediately and then to go back to Hannibal and Clarice and head towards their target. However, when Will caught sight of the face, that plan quickly changed and Will understood why the stalker was alone.

Maybe Paul Krendler had been charged with keeping an eye on Clarice though Will highly doubted it. He was fairly certain that he’d followed her out of suspicion and some uncontrollable want to get her fired and out of the FBI. Thankfully, it seemed his ambitions were his greatest failing as Will quickly learned that the man hadn’t called for backup. That fact was made clear when Will attacked and the man reached for his phone rather than his gun. It was likely that Krendler had wanted to not only get rid of Clarice but also take down Will in one fell swoop, becoming the new hero of the FBI.

However, he wasn’t going to get that chance and Will effectively knocked him out. He could have just killed him right there and it was incredibly tempting, but he managed to step back and reassess the situation. Simply killing him would be fine but Will knew he would regret the easier solution later. Instead, he took the man back to the car and tied him up in the back. Thankfully he and Hannibal had scavenged for tools during their trip across America and besides having rope there was also a few vials of a sedative that Will used on Krendler to make sure he stayed asleep. Taking his phone, he looked through it for a second, looking at contacts and information, seeing if Krendler was expected by anyone, and then finally turned the phone off and pocketed it.

From there, he went back in to see Clarice looking somewhat shocked and reserved. There was clearly something she wanted to say but before she could, Hannibal spoke, having noted his entrance. “It seems that Clarice has gifted us with some rather shocking information.”

“Oh?”

“It would appear Zachariah Kennedy’s son was killed when we set up our trap for the Red Dragon. It is likely he blames me as his son would not have died if the Dragon had not been so focused on killing me.”

That was surprising. Will listened to the quick explanation and asked, “So, where does Kennedy live?”

“About two hours from here,” Hannibal said. “We should be able to get there by three this afternoon.”

“Do you really think he’ll be there?” asked Clarice.

“Probably not,” Will said, “but it’ll be a good place to start.”

Hannibal nodded in agreement and when Will went to head outside, he and Clarice followed. This time Clarice didn’t ask to be taken back to her car or why she was still being asked to come along. Will knew she had her own reasoning for following along though Will didn’t really care about what it was. He was simply pleased that he had the chance to interact with her outside of a cell.

Will climbed into the back before Clarice could, feigning that he’d been up for hours and was planning to sleep on the ride over. Really, he just wanted to keep her from Krendler. He was covered up but Will would hate for the surprise to be ruined for her.

Before pretending to sleep, he updated Abigail and Chiyoh on their progress before laying back and relaxing across the seat. Will thought of how close he was to finding the last piece of Hannibal, about how desperately he needed to understand. He could tell that the journey was something Hannibal wished to put behind him as quickly as possible too. The man created a sense that Hannibal wasn’t all powerful, that he wouldn’t always be able to protect his family. Once Kennedy was dead, Hannibal would have that power back along with a much more resolute feeling of revenge.

Though Hannibal hadn’t said anything on the subject, Will knew that having a chance to kill the last man that had tormented him and his sister would lay to rest something inside him that had never fully disappeared because of the agreement with Chiyoh. She had kept him from killing Milko, wrongly thinking it would somehow save Hannibal. What she hadn’t understood was that Hannibal didn’t need saving. He needed a resolution to allow something inside him to finally rest.

The creature was something that had steadily become more visible, like a rotting bird resting on Hannibal’s shoulder. It was something that was a part of Hannibal but which should have detached a long time ago. Will looked forward to both seeing what that creature had been and for it to finally fall away, leaving the Hannibal that Will had fallen with.

Along the drive, a phone rang that had Will’s eyes flashing open from his fake nap. Hannibal glanced over as Clarice remained frozen in her seat.

“You can answer it you know,” Will commented, letting out a long yawn as he wondered who it was.

She hesitantly nodded, pulling out her phone. Guilt flashed across her face as she looked at the caller’s id and then quickly answered. Will understood the guilt as she said the caller’s name.

“Brian, what’s up?”

Will sat up, focusing on listening to the one-sided conversation with avid curiosity.

“Don’t worry, Ardelia and Jimmy aren’t forcing it on me,” she said with an uneasy laugh. “And no they’re not taking over the apartment. It’s nice that they’re so involved.”

She was silent for a moment as Brian spoke on the other end.

“No, don’t worry I appreciate your inability to emotionally comfort people too,” snorted Clarice. Another pause and then, “Yeah I have no idea when they’ll be there. Talk to Ardelia about it. I uh…I may be a little late but I’m sure that’ll just give them plenty of time to ransack the place.” She laughed again, still somewhat uneasy. “Yeah…yeah I’m alright. Thanks Brian. I’ll see you and everyone else tonight.”

“Having friends over for dinner?” asked Hannibal as she hung up.

Will couldn’t help but laugh at the obvious innuendo.

Clarice only managed a soft, “Yes.”

“So you’re friends with Price and Zeller?” asked Will. “When did you meet them?”

“During the Buffalo Bill case. I helped Jimmy with the autopsy of one of the girls,” murmured Clarice.

Will nodded as he leaned back against the seat. Part of him was happy for her while a smaller part remained disappointed. Besides simply getting Clarice involved because it could be fun, there had been another idea that had passed through his mind. Its likelihood of working was lessened if she still had friends and supporters in the FBI, again making the feeling bittersweet. Will would still try and follow through with his plan but he no longer held onto the certainty that it would work.

The rest of the journey was made in silence, Krendler still knocked out in the back. They made it in just under two hours and eventually parked outside a suburban house.

“Clarice, why don’t you go to the door?” asked Will.

She didn’t have to ask why it made since for her to go. If Kennedy was actually there and opened up the door, her face wouldn’t be recognized. Will’s probably wouldn’t have been either but having her out of the car would give him time to speak with Hannibal.

The moment the door was closed, Hannibal turned to look at him. “Did you get rid of the problem?”

“Actually he’s tied up and in the trunk.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at that.

“Turned out to be Paul Krendler. I figured I might as well not ignore an opportunity so beautifully given to me.”

“And exactly what do you have planned for Agent Krendler?”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” Will replied, “but I figured we could figure it out after this mess is sorted. Maybe I’ll even ask Clarice’s opinion on the matter.”

“She won’t allow you to harm him Will. Whatever connection you share, she won’t allow you to kill him.”

Will shrugged. Perhaps Hannibal was right but they wouldn’t know for sure until they tried.

“I doubt she’ll allow me to kill Kennedy either,” Hannibal added with a somewhat amused look.

“Did you tell her about what he did to Mischa?”

“Yes.”

“And yet you still don’t think she’ll let you kill him?” asked Will.

“She is here to save Abigail. That is her goal. I’m sure that she will try and bargain for Kennedy’s life too, claiming he’ll be charged accordingly for his crimes.”

Will shook his head. “There wouldn’t be any evidence. He’d obviously walk.”

“And I’m sure Clarice understands that on some deep level too. However, I believe her mind can only handle so much at once. She can rationalize working with us, not shooting us or arresting us in this moment because of your lie with Abigail. She will not be able to stand by and allow Kennedy’s death though.”

Will frowned slightly at that. Hannibal was likely right but that didn’t mean he liked it. Glancing back out, he saw that still no one had answered the door. Will was just about to suggest they break in when a neighbor suddenly yelled out and walked over to Clarice. Will watched the short exchange as Clarice gave a quick thank you and rushed back to the car.

“She told me he just came back from a long trip. He’s not usually at home though. He’s up at a sort of nursing home right now. It’s not far from here.”

Will cocked his head to the side. “Why there?”

“His wife has Alzheimer’s,” Clarice murmured. “Apparently he tried to keep her at home for as long as possible but it became too much. Once he had to put her in a home, he apparently started disappearing for weeks at a time. Whenever he’s back though, he’s always there with her.”

“Well, that explains why it took him so long to act,” Will said. “He no longer has anything to live for.”

Hannibal nodded in agreement. “We should hurry then.”

“What about Abigail?” asked Clarice. She gestured back to the house. “What if she’s in there?”

“Highly doubtful,” Hannibal smoothly said. “That house is the last of Kennedy’s pure memories, that of his wife and his son. As much as it likely hurts being in that house, he wouldn’t dare to tarnish those memories.”

Clarice gave Will an uncertain look.

“I’d trust the doctor on this one,” smirked Will. “We’ll find Abigail when we get Kennedy.”

Clarice hesitantly nodded in agreement as she pulled up a GPS on her phone and directed them to the place.

Will watched both Hannibal and Clarice from the backseat with a narrowed gaze. Both were tense for different reasons and Will could see that Hannibal’s comments on Clarice were right. She knew what Hannibal planned to do to the man and the way her hand laid on her gun showed that she wasn’t going to let that happen.

However it played out, Will would have to be careful. On the one hand, Hannibal needed to finish this and Will wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of that. Of course, neither would Hannibal and Will would have to make sure he didn’t kill Clarice.

It could be a difficult act to balance but the fact that it would be a challenge made it exciting as well. They drove in silence as they grew closer to the final piece that was Hannibal.


	8. Vakarinė

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again <3

Clarice again was chosen to go in. She forced her breathing to calm down as she walked up to the front desk and asked for directions towards a Mrs. Kennedy’s room. Thankfully some quick sweet talking was all that was needed and Clarice didn’t have to mention being an FBI agent or anything like that. She was simply given directions and quickly headed over.

As she walked down the white halls, she tried to think of what she would do. On the one hand, the man hadn’t just kidnapped someone but had killed and ate a child. Even just thinking that made Clarice want to kill him. But could she? Could she allow Hannibal to extract his revenge? Where did she draw the line? Was there even still a line? Or had it all blurred together?

She didn’t know and hadn’t figured out a solution when she finally arrived at the room. Knocking on the open door, she stuck her head in to see Zachariah Kennedy. There was a woman in the bed, presumably his wife, who was fast asleep. He looked up, a small frown forming on his face.

“Mr. Kennedy?”

“Yes?” His accent was small, barely noticeable but certainly odd in its tone.

“I’m Clarice Starling. We haven’t met before sir. I…I occasionally work with the police on some cases,” she finally said. Technically it wasn’t a lie but at least she wasn’t outright misusing her position as an FBI agent. “If possible, could I ask you a few questions?”

Only slight confusion seemed to pass over the man’s face. “Could we do it in the cafeteria? It’s just that…” his sad, blue eyes turned to his sleeping wife.

“Of course sir.”

She waited for him to get up and allowed him to take the lead. Nothing about his body showed fear or even wariness. From what she could tell, he had no suspicions as to why she was there. Besides, Clarice was still trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do, supposed to say, when suddenly a flash of movement came towards her face.

Lurching backwards, she managed to avoid the elbow to the face as she fell on the floor hard. Struggling to get up, Kennedy was already running down the hall.

“Stop! Stop where you are!”

Clarice pushed herself up and shoved past the people around her. Running back to the main area, she spun in circles, trying to catch sight of the man. When she spotted him, she began to book it again. He was pretty fast for an older man but she managed to catch up with him once they both hit the parking lot.

Tackling him to the ground, they struggled some more as Clarice attempted to pull out her gun. However, it was knocked from her hands in the scuffle and a quick punch to her throat had her gasping for air. Struggling to push herself up and do something-anything-she felt his fist connect with her jaw again and again.

* * *

 

Hannibal had been curious as to exactly how it would play out. Though Kennedy was definitely in the nursing home, or at least would arrive at some point, he had no idea as to how Clarice would lure him out or if she even would.

What he didn’t expect was to see a car speeding away from a parking lot on the west side of the nursing home. He only managed a quick glance but started the car right away.

Will was immediately sticking his head back up as Hannibal sped out of the parking lot and after the car.

“What do you think happened?” asked Will.

“He was spooked. Clearly as ready as he is to tear my life apart he has no idea how to deal with attention turned on him. Whatever happened, I’m sure Clarice is still alive.”

Will made an unhappy noise from behind, almost mimicking the whine of Precious or Liz. “Which do you think is more likely? She’s somewhere in the nursing home or she’s in the back of that car?”

“Either or are equally likely. She’s a fighter. It would have been difficult to keep her from him,” Hannibal replied. He then turned his attention to following the car in front of him. It appeared that though he was speeding, Kennedy didn’t want to attract the attention of any cops. Hannibal did the same, working to make it seem that they weren’t following him.

When Hannibal realized where the man was headed, the chase was made even easier as Hannibal eased back on the gas. They ended up at the man’s house nearly a minute after he’d arrived. Hannibal guessed that the unsuspected development had disrupted whatever plans the man had. Desperate for an escape, he’d gone to the only place that felt safe anymore, his own home.

It was dark out and few people were out when Hannibal stepped out of the car with Will close behind him. However, when Hannibal heard the gunshot and saw the barest hint of a flash from one of the windows, he lunged forward and to the front door. Obviously Clarice had been in the car and Kennedy, not knowing what to do, had taken her into the house. Hannibal didn’t care about that.

What he cared about was not getting a name, of losing the answers that still evaded him, of failing to kill the last of Mischa’s murderers.

His shoulder slammed into the front door with a deafening crack.

* * *

 

Clarice had momentarily blacked out from the punches to her head and had found herself awake in the backseat of a car. She didn’t move, didn’t say a word, and kept her eyes firmly shut as she strained her ears to listen to the man’s mutterings. He was panicking, that much was clear.

He was also distracted, meaning Clarice had a chance to overpower him. However, they were in a moving vehicle and such actions could prove dangerous for both of them.

She chose to remain still when she felt the car stop and even did so when she felt his hands on her. Like a ragdoll, she let her arms and legs flop around as she felt the man hoist her with some difficulty, likely going into a building from the sound of a door. He was scared and shaking and Clarice managed to brace herself when she felt his arms give.

Hitting the ground, she sprung right back up. Using his surprise to her advantage, she hit him hard, this time being the one to get several good punches in before he pulled himself away. As he did, she realized he had picked up her gun as it rested in his waistband. She snatched it up and pointed it at him.

“Don’t move!”

When he kept going, she fired a warning shot near the man’s head, effectively keeping him in his place. She didn’t have time to think up her next plan though as she heard the front door suddenly crack. She pointed her gun off in that direction as she heard another loud thud and the splinting of wood. She was only partially surprised when Hannibal appeared with Will not far behind him.

However, what she saw was not the Hannibal she recalled from their short conversation or the car ride over. There was something different, something which had her heart beating all the faster.

His eyes looked to her gun and then to Kennedy on the floor. A wave of relief seemed to wash over him at seeing the man alive. That moment passed though when Kennedy suddenly launched himself off the ground and towards Hannibal. Clarice’s reaction was instinctive, a product of years of training and being in the field.

She never would have expected the bullet to hit Hannibal.

It should have hit Kennedy but Hannibal had effectively shoved the man to the side and had taken the bullet in his upper arm instead. She was to shocked to react when Hannibal moved towards her and snatched the gun from her limp fingers.

“ _You are not taking this from me_.”

The hissed noise had Clarice’s whole body jolting backwards. However, upon seeing Hannibal turn to the defenseless man cowering on the floor, she couldn’t help but move forward again. “You can’t—”

That was the last thing she thought as she felt the butt of her own gun connect with her head.

* * *

 

Will winced slightly as he watched Clarice fall to the ground. His eyes then turned back to Hannibal and he could see that if he didn’t do something, he would lay into Kennedy and nothing short of a bullet would stop him.

He grabbed Hannibal roughly, purposely pressing a finger into the bullet wound in his arm that elicited a growl. “We weren’t the only ones who heard that shot. We have about another minute, maybe two, before cop cars are swarming this place. Whatever you wish to do to him, you can’t do it here.”

Hannibal didn’t say a word though Will could tell he understood. He gently took the gun from Hannibal’s fingers and then went to collect Clarice. He heard the cries of Kennedy as Hannibal’s fists connected with his face until he finally blacked out. There was nothing elegant about it, nothing that really made Will think he was standing near Hannibal.

That final piece was being pulled forth as they carried the two bodies to the car. It didn’t matter if people were out and saw. The car was stolen and wouldn’t give the police anything to track.

Will gently placed the unconscious Clarice into the backseat while Hannibal carelessly threw Kennedy into the trunk with Krindler. It was almost funny, having so many bodies in the car yet having all be alive, at least for now.

Knowing that whatever state of mind Hannibal was in it wasn’t a rational one, Will took the initiative to drive. They needed to find a secluded place and Will found a perfect place when he turned Krendler’s phone back on, an empty boathouse owned by a friend that they had planned to use for some type of celebration. It was less than an hour away and outside of any city or town. Turning off the phone, he sped out of the neighborhood.

Will focused on driving though he did occasionally look to Hannibal to see how he was doing. For the first time in a while, he couldn’t guess what Hannibal was thinking, largely because the man sitting next to him wasn’t Hannibal. It wasn’t even a man but a form that was changing, growing and shrinking, trying to take a form that Will couldn’t quite see yet.

He simply reached out and though he didn’t see it, he could feel Hannibal’s hand in his for a moment. Whatever Will was seeing, it had not destroyed the Hannibal he knew but neither were they coexisting. From what he could tell, the other form would be destroyed with the death of Kennedy. Will looked forward to it.


	9. Ašvieniai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you as always, hope you enjoy <3

Once at the boathouse that was thankfully still empty, Will focused on prepping Clarice and Krendler. Taking them into the dining room, Will removed the sheet over the furniture and quickly went about tying them both to chairs. Thankfully with it being a boathouse, there was plenty of rope. Once that was done he went into the adjacent living room. Kennedy was still out and Hannibal hadn’t woken him yet. When he saw the fire that he had started, he understood why.

Will watched silently as Hannibal heated up a poker before shoving it into Kennedy’s shoulder. The man woke with a cry. Hannibal didn’t give him time to calm down from the pain, immediately going into an unrelenting string of questions. Each time Kennedy didn’t answer, Hannibal hit him with the poker again.

“Tell me who you are. Tell me!”

The man was given a short time to collect himself not because Hannibal was pausing in the beating but because he was rearing back to hit him even harder than the last. However, the man did manage to shout out, “You killed my son you monster!”

Hannibal brought the poker down on Kennedy’s arm, the bone cracking.

“You killed my friends!”

“You ate my sister!” roared Hannibal. He dropped the poker and grabbed Kennedy by his collar. Shoving him up and against a wall, he knocked him around some more, the man sobbing out words.

“My fault. It’s my fault,” he said in a spew of blood.

“What!? What is!?” yelled Hannibal as he broke the man’s nose.

“I set you free you monster!”

That made Hannibal pause, to stop his blows. Shock and confusion passed over his face.

“I thought I was righting my wrongs by setting you free but all I did was release a monster!” the man yelled. “You killed Grutas and Milko and Dortlich and Grentz and my son because of my fucking kindness!”

Hannibal hit him again and again as Will watched the shape in front of him finally form. He understood now. He understood what he was seeing.

The trauma had affected him, had changed him, but it hadn’t created Hannibal, not the doctor or the psychiatrist or the Chesapeake Ripper or Il Mostro. What it had created was a mad, unthinking teenager with only thoughts of revenge and his sister Mischa on his mind. And that form had remained buried, rotting away as he was unable to finish his only purpose in life.

But he was finishing it now, hands hitting the man again and again, yelling at him for a name. Eventually one came, Kolnas, and it was then that the teen dropped the man to the ground, picked up the poker, and shoved it through Kolnas’ midsection.

He wasn’t done though, not yet. The teen had two men to exact his revenge on, both Kolnas who lay dead in front of him and Milko, the man Chiyoh had kept him from harming.

Will watched the blood fly, spattering across the boy’s face as he ripped Kolnas open, tearing his organs and flesh apart. There would be no feasting on him. The man wasn’t even worthy of that in the boy’s eyes.

As the teen finally began to slow down, body heaving as exhaustion fell on him, Will moved forward and knelt beside the bloody pulp. He put a hand on the back of the teen’s neck, the young man flinching from the contact of an unknown.

“It’s alright,” Will murmured. “You’ve finished it. Mischa is at peace.”

“Mischa…”

The single name came out broken and filled with pain.

“Go to her,” murmured Will. “You finished it.” He then turned the boy’s face towards him, pressing his lips against the bloodstained ones. Against those lips he whispered. “Come back to me Hannibal.”

Only when he felt a reaction, when lips moved against his, did Will finally pull back and see Hannibal again.

His form was solid, clear, and no rotting creature clung to his shoulder. The teen was gone, the past finished and the bodies firmly buried. Hannibal’s eyes flitted to the mess that was barely recognizable as a human. He was exhausted in mind and body with some small amount of confusion still clouding his eyes. Their positions were very much flipped in that moment but Will didn’t it mind it now, knowing that after a good rest, Hannibal would be himself again and they’d be able to go back to their family and life.

Will pulled him up and kept him close. He drew Hannibal’s eyes away from the dead man as he kissed him again and pulled him back to the covered couch. He removed the white sheet on it and pushed Hannibal down.

“Will…” It was Hannibal’s voice now, exhausted and questioning.

“Get some sleep Hannibal. I’ll take care of it all,” murmured Will.

He waited until Hannibal’s eyes slipped shut as he then grabbed the tools he needed to tend to the bullet wound. Thankfully it had gone cleanly through and it took no time at all to patch it up. Hannibal fell asleep shortly afterwards and only then did Will leave his side. He gathered up pieces of the mutilated body and threw it outside so it would no longer stink up the living room. He didn’t bother in burying it.

With a quick glance into the dining room, Will saw that Clarice and Krendler were still out and tied up so he took the time to finally call Abigail.

“It’s finished,” Will said as way of greeting.

“It is! You’re sure?” asked Abigail, hope filling her voice.

“Yes.”

“How is Hannibal?” asked Chiyoh from nearby.

“He’s sleeping at the moment. I’ll let him rest for a bit and then we’ll start heading back to you.”

“So you found out who Kennedy was, right?” Abigail asked.

Will nodded. “His name was Kolnas. Interestingly enough, his son died when Hannibal escaped from the police during the Red Dragon case. Apparently it wasn’t just his friends that he wanted revenge on.”

“Well it’s done now,” murmured Chiyoh, the conflicting emotions obvious in her voice.

“Don’t worry Chiyoh. It was the best course for him,” murmured Will. “I need to go now. Some last minute things that have to be wrapped up before we head out.”

“Ok. Be safe getting home,” Abigail said.

“We will. See you soon.”

Will hung up with a satisfied sigh and then headed back to Krendler and Clarice. Having been assaulted by Kolnas and Hannibal, Clarice was still very much out of it and probably needed the rest. Will would have to remember to look at her forehead and clean that wound. However, his attention turned to Krendler as the sedative in his blood was finally warring off and the man began to stir in his chair.

“We’ve never officially met Agent Krendler,” Will said as he walked over to the man.

Krendler’s eyes flickered up, confused and mind clearly addled by the drug.

“Obviously, I’m sure you know who I am.”

Will remained silent as he watched Krendler’s memories filter back in. However, his tongue was too heavy to scream or really say much of anything.

“Now, I know we can’t have as stirring a conversation as you would like,” Will sighed, “but don’t worry. What words you can’t manage to speak I’ll pick out of that brain of yours for you.”

* * *

 

Hannibal woke with a stiffness in his bones and a lightness in his heart. He was sore all over, particularly his right arm which he quickly remembered had been shot. Memories flitted back to him as he recalled driving after Kenn-no. Kolnas. His name was Kolnas.

He momentarily went through his mind palace and to that wretched place. Now five adult men faced him and he saw one go and unlock his chains while the others weren’t paying attention.

They were dead, finally.

His mind then turned to that feeling of lightness. Something was gone from him but Hannibal didn’t miss it. He couldn’t describe what the piece had been but now that he was without it, he suspected it was a piece that should have fallen away long ago.

Turning back to the physical, his eyes moved over the stained floor where Kolnas had been. He knew he hadn’t been the one to move the body and momentarily wondered what Will had done with him. He decided he didn’t really care.

“How are you feeling?”

Hannibal’s eyes turned to the door. Will stood there with a small smile, his clothes different from when Hannibal had last seen him.

Looking at the simple white shirt, the black jacket, Hannibal said, “Those are far nicer than what we brought with us.”

“I figured I’d dress up for the occasion,” Will replied as he walked over. “You provided me with a show, so I’m only doing the polite thing and providing you with dinner.”

Hannibal cocked an eyebrow at that as Will walked over and offered his hand. Taking it, Hannibal glanced down at himself, at his bloodstained and torn clothes. “I must say Will. I think this is the first time you’ve made me feel underdressed.”

Will laughed at that as he pulled him in for a kiss and then guided him to the adjacent room. Hannibal wondered how long he had been out as he looked at all that Will had done.

“I had to go out a few times but I managed to get most of what I needed and improvised with the rest.”

Paul Krendler sat at the head of the table with Clarice to his right. Hannibal looked at the stitches in her forehead as more memories came back. Glancing to her rising and falling chest, he said, “I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t kill her.”

“It is,” Will said with a narrowed gaze as he pushed him into the chair opposite her. “I would have been very cross if you had.”

“Who’s he?”

Hannibal’s eyes turned back to Krendler. Looking at his dazed expression and the clear cut around his entire skull, Hannibal could guess what kind of drugs were in his system at the moment.

“Come now, you’re an FBI agent,” Will chided him. He snapped his fingers in front of Krendler’s face. “You should be able to identify Hannibal Lecter like that.”

“Will why…what are you…”

“Perfect timing Clarice,” Will added as he walked over to her. He slowly took up a spoon full of soup and gently pressed it between her lips. “Now, I know it isn’t Hannibal’s cooking but I’d like to believe I’ve improved quite a bit in the past few years. Besides, you need to eat. Get your strength back and all that.”

Hannibal watched with great interest as he sipped at his own dish. “I assure you Clarice. He has greatly improved.”

Will chuckled at that before going back to Krendler.

“Smells good.”

“Thank you Krendler,” Will replied as he took up a small knife and stood behind the man. “But I have something a little bit better for you.” Lodging the blade underneath the small incision, the top of Krendler’s head came off with a small, wet pop as Will went and set it to the side.

“An interesting choice,” Hannibal said. “I would have thought you’d do something more akin to what Gideon did to Dr. Chilton.”

“I saw enough of intestines during the show,” Will replied. “Besides, my knowledge of the brain isn’t as great as the body. Might as well take advantage of what I have. And I think Krendler needs to work on his open-mindedness, don’t you think so?”

“Will…please just…just don’t…”

“Don’t look so horrified Clarice,” Will said. “Humility does a person a world of good and I think Krendler needs just that right now.”

Very carefully, Will began to cut off a section of Krendler’s brain.

“Ah, a section of the pre-frontal lobe,” mused Hannibal. “Some say it’s the seat of good manners.”

“In that case Krendler certainly won’t be missing it,” Will said. He pushed the small piece onto a fork and then placed it into a small, mobile stove where it sizzled for a moment. “Try this Agent Krendler.”

“No…don’t….” Clarice’s weak protests did nothing. Honestly the restraints were even a bit redundant judging by how poorly she struggled.

“Hmm. Yum.”

“I’m glad you like it,” smirked Will. His eyes then flickered over to Clarice. “Don’t try to do anything Clarice. It’ll only tire you out.”

Hannibal eased back in his seat, sipping on the simple but pleasing soup. He watched as Will walked back over to Clarice and knelt beside her. He could tell when Will began to use his gift, his head cocking to the side and his hand gently guiding and forcing Clarice’s eyes to look at his.

“You’ve thought about offing him. Of course, I’m sure it was in simpler ways than this,” murmured Will.

“I…I haven’t…”

“But you have.” Will smiled as he looked up at her. “You even wondered if I’d do it for you. Well don’t worry. You don’t have to ask me.”

Will walked back over to Krendler and began to make another incision as Clarice fell forward, her body shaking as she dry-heaved.

“Wat-water…I’m…I can I please have a glass…please…”

“Now, are you truly thirsty or are just trying to distract me?” asked Will with a raised eyebrow.

“Please…”

“Well alright. Since you asked nicely,” Will replied.

Hannibal watched as Will gently held Clarice’s head and pressed a glass to her lips. He set the glass down and pressed his lips close to her ear, words to soft for Hannibal to hear. Whatever Will said, it oddly enough had Clarice’s body relaxing. Hannibal looked on in curiosity, wondering how the night would end.


	10. Laima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you again! I've really loved getting back into Hannibal and have had so much fun writing this story and this series! The epilogue to this story will be out on Thursday and this Saturday will be the final part for this series. Thank you again <3

Clarice’s memories were there, recalling Kennedy, and Hannibal striking her. But she was unable to focus on any one thought for long. She certainly couldn’t understand how Paul Krendler had gotten there and just barely comprehended what was happening to him.

Everything was fluid in an unnatural way as Will’s face moved towards her. Clarice couldn’t quite visually focus on anything, her body never fully in her control. She couldn’t quite tell what she moved or when so she just kept on struggling, trying to do something, anything to stop Will from hurting Krendler. Words left her mouth, somewhat slurred and repetitive but she had to…had to do something.

When a glass was pressed against her lips, Clarice had already forgotten she’d asked for water. She swallowed, some of the wetness dripping down her chin. Will’s lips came incredibly close to her ear, the feeling of his breath and the heat of his skin all encompassing.

“You can admit it. No one here will judge you and no one outside of here will ever know.”

No one would ever know…perhaps it was a dream. A sick dream but what did it matter? Only she would know.

It made since after all. Hannibal had struck her fairly hard but now that she thought of it, her skull wasn’t throbbing. She’d be in terrible pain if she was awake so the idea of a dream simply made more sense.

The room spun momentarily and she couldn’t tell if it was because it had moved or she had. Her eyes finally fell on Hannibal’s face, his features momentarily clearing. He looked tired, probably needed some sleep. Those words might have come out. Hannibal certainly seemed amused by it.

But he’d chosen to stay awake, to watch. He thought there was something to gain though Clarice didn’t know what. She wondered if he’d gotten his revenge, if his sister was at peace, if Abigail was safe.

“Sorry Clarice, but I did lie about that.”

She couldn’t tell who said the words. Laughter filled the room, maybe hers. Of course he had. She wouldn’t have helped them otherwise. Oh well. At least the young woman was fine. That was a nice weight off of her shoulders.

Her head rolled back over at hearing Krendler’s voice. He was enjoying the meal, enjoying the self-cannibalism. The thought made her body still heave, wanting to throw up at the viewing. Yet at the same time she couldn’t help but laugh, laugh at the absurdity of it all. Krendler was having a piece of his own mind. She wondered if he now understood all the trouble and torment she had been dealing with.

When Krendler’s eyes slipped shut, Will seemed done with his work. He wiped his hands on a small towel and carelessly threw it on top of Krendler’s open skull.

Krendler was still breathing but Clarice could understand what it meant. His individuality had ceased to exist. He had become an it, an object. It didn’t matter anymore, nor did it affect her life anymore. She felt her lips tugging upwards.

“See Clarice. See.”

It was a command, one which she obeyed. Besides, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t real at all.

“Have you ever wanted a sister Clarice?”

A sister? She had always been an only child. She hadn’t minded at first. But it had been lonely, particularly when her father died. She’d had no one.

“Would you like that? What about a full family? It’s been so long since you had one.”

She could feel his fingers moving along her chin, calm and comforting. Her hair being gently combed, like a father, like her father.

“You could leave this all behind, be free. The FBI has betrayed you after all. You don’t owe them anything.”

Perhaps she didn’t, maybe she still did. She wasn’t sure. It was all a bit confusing. At the very least she could tell she was comfortable, that her father’s gentle fingers wouldn’t harm her. She leaned into the touch and relaxed even further.

* * *

 

Hannibal looked at the scene and found himself growing fond. He wondered if it was because of his exhaustion, because of Kolnas’ death and the recently recalled memories, but he saw himself feeding and holding a sick Mischa, a pure time before the men had come.

His eyes focused on Will and Clarice again. It was a nice thought, but one he didn’t hold to tightly. “From what you’ve told me and from what I’ve seen, Clarice is of a strong mind. Your own suggestions will not take form unless there is already some basis.”

“And who’s to say there isn’t?” asked Will, somewhat defensive.

“Not I,” Hannibal calmly replied. “I simply wouldn’t hold up one’s hopes.” He looked at Will looking at Clarice. “I did not realize how long she had been on your mind.”

“I didn’t realize your family had been slaughtered by communists,” Will muttered.

“Touché,” said Hannibal. He looked from Will to Clarice again, a thought forming into a theory. “You don’t wish Abigail to leave.”

“She’s not leaving,” Will muttered. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Will, we both have not spent our time rehabilitating her to simply trap her,” Hannibal said as he stood up and walked towards him. “And as interesting as I think it would be to add Clarice, you should do it not out of desperation to replace Abigail.”

A small growl escaped Will’s throat. It was a dead giveaway that Hannibal was right.

“I hate it when you do that,” Will grumbled.

“Think of it as payback for seeing me so vulnerable for so long,” Hannibal said. “But what I said of Abigail I believe is true for Clarice. If she chose to come with us, I’m sure you would prefer her to make that choice by her own mind rather than yours.”

Will closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to relax. “But if she says yes…”

“Then I will gladly welcome her,” murmured Hannibal. He turned to Clarice’s lax form, caressing her cheek. He saw Mischa, saw a version that could possibly live on if he simply pushed in the right way, but he allowed his hand to drop to his side instead. Mischa’s time had passed, even if she had never gotten a chance to use it. Clarice however, she had plenty of time left that Hannibal looked forward to whether it was with them or not.

* * *

 

Waiting for the drugs to wear off, Will spent his time cleaning up the kitchen. It didn’t really matter, it wasn’t even his house after all, but it allowed him time to think and to wait for a much more aware Clarice to make a choice. He could just take her now. There was a boat there after all. Him and Hannibal and her. They’d be gone before the FBI even knew where to look.

But Hannibal was right and Will didn’t want to force his life upon Clarice and neither did he want to think of her as a replacement for Abigail. Neither were children, both in their early thirties now and though Will had at least been a surrogate to Abigail, it didn’t mean he had a right to do the same for Clarice.

He wondered if his need to hold on to Abigail was because of the lost time. Years he could have spent with her taken from him because of his inability to choose.

Once he finally let Abigail go, Will wondered if that ache would persist. It wasn’t until he’d met Abigail that he’d ever thought of having a child of his own yet it was clear that the thought no longer wished to leave him. What would Hannibal say? Would he agree? How the hell were they even supposed to adopt?

Will let out a soft sigh, making it appear that he were relaxing against the kitchen counter. However, he had instead posed himself, ready for the assault, and effectively spun around at the slight sound. He caught Clarice’s wrist, eye’s flitting to the knife in her hand. The drugs were still clearly in her system but her eyes remained clear and aware now.

“I suppose that’s your answer,” sighed Will as he pushed her against the counter, trapping her against the edge and his. He took the knife from her hand and tossed it away. Cocking his head to the side, he looked into her bright eyes and murmured, “You weren’t trying to kill me.”

“Then why did I have a knife?” she asked, her voice stronger but words still somewhat strung together in an unnatural rhythm.

“To play your part,” murmured Will. “I told you to look. Did you?”

“I did,” she replied, her body growing weak from the simple move from the dining room to the kitchen.

Will found himself supporting her more so than pinning her in place. He practically held her, looking closely, feeling her and her thoughts. Understanding fell upon him. “You already have a family.”

She gave a small nod. “If I left them, left Jimmy and Brian and especially Ardelia? I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

“And what about not going with me? Will you regret that?”

“No,” Clarice said. “I’m not meant for your world.”

“But you acknowledge that there is a darkness in you?”

“I haven’t shed a tear for Krendler, have I?”

“No, you haven’t,” murmured Will as he carefully caressed her face. “Will you continue to track us down? Will you look for us?”

“No.”

“I’ll miss you Clarice,” Will softly spoke. “I’ll miss what could have been.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Will chuckled at that, a smile finally crossing his face. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. He hesitated, but then moved forward and softly pressed his lips to her forehead. He held her for a moment longer before moving back again. “Take care of your family Clarice. It’s the most important thing you’ll ever create.”

“I will. You take care of yours too.”

Will nodded, finally letting go of her though he pulled a chair over for her to collapse into. He handed Clarice her phone, letting his fingers linger before he finally stepped away. It wasn’t a perfect ending, certainly not what Will had wished for, but it was more satisfying than the goodbye between bars.

“I’ll give you a head start.”

“That’s very kind of you Clarice. Thank you.”

“Thank you Will.”

He finally turned and walked out of the house, gathering his jacket which he’d slipped off. Other than that, Hannibal had taken everything they would need onto the boat. Will wasn’t sure how long they’d travel down the river but he looked forward to finally seeing Abigail again.

Going through the woods and to the dock, he saw that Hannibal had already prepared for their departure and was waiting on the deck. Hannibal glanced behind him but simply nodded his acceptance as Will undid the tether and climbed onboard.

“Though you may be disappointed, I believe you ultimately freed her,” Hannibal said with a kind touch.

“How so?”

“Much like you, she needed to see what the other half had before she could fully appreciate what she held,” Hannibal said. “If she had come, she wouldn’t have been happy. She wouldn’t have been her.”

Will nodded, finally allowing himself to accept that. He walked over to start up the boat’s engine as they moved down the black water at night. “Ready to go home?”

Hannibal smiled. “More than you could imagine.”


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for any support you've given to this story! I had a blast writing it. The last part of this series will be out Saturday for those curious. Thanks again and hope you enjoy <3

By the time the police had arrived, Clarice had managed to work herself into a sobbing wreck, lies and truths mixed together as they fell from her lips. She kept hiding her acceptance, the peace that had been made in her. She hid it until hours had passed, until she’d been driven back to Quantico, statements had been taken, evidence written up, interviews taken again and again, all the way to when she was finally released and allowed to walk on her own, walk right into her family.

Brian was panicking to no end, making wild statements built from fear and desperation. Ardelia just wouldn’t let her go, saying again and again how thankful she was that she was ok. Jimmy was the most sensible, hiding his own fear behind cups of coffee and food that he kept disappearing to get for everyone.

Clarice loved them dearly and found herself even surer of her decision and her choice to stay. When she finally had a chance of solitude in her own apartment, she went to the room with countless articles and pictures of Will and Hannibal and took down each one. She threw away the surveillance photos, destroyed the copies of case files. She didn’t need it anymore. No longer was that drive to find Will within her.

She was free.

* * *

 

The reunion with Abigail was sweet and beautiful but Hannibal made sure to take his time with Chiyoh, knowing that she’d be ready to leave at any moment.

“I hope this wasn’t to much of a bother for you.”

Chiyoh simply rolled her eyes. “I do like Abigail, just so you know. But I do look forward to being on my own again.”

Hannibal would have once agreed with her. Now he found he had what he had once thought unattainable.

“You do know you are always welcomed to stay,” Hannibal murmured.

“I know. It’s why I choose not to,” she replied evenly. “I feel that if I did, I would never leave.”

He chuckled at that. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No. But it’s not what I want.”

“Then I will not push any farther,” said Hannibal. “Thank you for your help in this matter.”

“I’m happy that she’s finally at peace,” Chiyoh said with utter sincerity. She hugged him then and Hannibal held her tightly, recalling that the last time they had been so close they had been but children.

“Good luck Chiyoh.”

“Same to you,” she replied, kissing his cheek before turning and leaving.

Hannibal watched her go before going back to his family. Liz and Precious still hadn’t quite calmed down, certainly overexcited at having him and Will back. It was Abigail that quickly assaulted him with a hug though. She smiled and looked up at him. “No more secrets?”

“None,” Hannibal assured her.

She grinned from ear to ear before her attention was directed elsewhere as Liz tried to knock her down to get near him. She laughed, music to Hannibal’s ears as she said, “Don’t worry old girl. He hasn’t forgotten you.”

“Not in the slightest,” Hannibal said as he kneeled next to the large dog and began to scratch behind her ears.

That night, Hannibal finally had a chance to sit down and make a proper dinner for the first time in a while. The night was filled with Abigail’s voice as she told them of what she’d gotten up to with Chiyoh, how the dogs and cat were doing, what their neighbors and acquaintances were up to, and everything else. After all, Hannibal and Will had already explained to her much of what had happened and there was no need to dwell on it more. It was nice being able to just sit back and listen for a while.

During the dinner though, a thought came to Hannibal and he told Will of it that night as they finally slept in their own bed again.

“You want to leave? After we’ve just got back?”

“I’m not suggesting we pack our bags tonight,” chuckled Hannibal as he looked at Will’s incredulous look, “merely that we consider it.”

Will looked at him, a small smile forming on his lips as he immediately understood. “You miss Europe.”

“I do.”

“Do you miss your home?”

“The Lecter Estate?” clarified Hannibal. “I did. But I don’t any more. Anything that I would need of that place I can find in my mind. I have no other reason to go back.”

Will kissed him gently as the sentence left his lips. “Do you consider this your true home now?”

“I consider you home,” Hannibal replied. “Where we are is inconsequential.”

“But you would like that inconsequential place to be Europe,” Will said with a small laugh.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

* * *

 

Clarice saw the news report before anyone came to her about it. Though nothing had been confirmed yet between their government and Argentina’s, the crime was apparently too artistic to ignore. She of course didn’t see the photos until the FBI got a hold of them. Thankfully, she wasn’t asked to consult on the case, many likely believing it a poor idea for her mental health.

She somewhat regretted going down that path now as it was hard to dredge herself out of the valley of the victim. Nevertheless, it had worked in fooling the FBI and she’d managed to push Hannibal and Will’s “kidnapping” of her behind. People were beginning to remember how she could have been the person that succeeded in catching Buffalo Bill and with the drug raid incident behind her and Krendler gone, Clarice found that her career was going down the right path again.

Will rarely entered her mind anymore though she did take the time to look at the photos that the FBI received. She decided that the photo didn’t do its subject justice. A beautiful mermaid, legs sewn together and seaweed carefully strung through her hair, sat upon a throne of bones. It was an image that clearly made up for all the people that Hannibal hadn’t been able to display before. Now he and Will clearly didn’t care about the attention thrown their way. They would be long gone.

Her only thought on the matter was, “Interesting choice to reside Will. I wonder where you’ll go next.”

* * *

 

It seemed moving to Europe had been a good decision. Not only did the change of scenery seem to perk everyone up but it had forced Will and Abigail into a good place of understanding. She had grown comfortable in her skin again and wanted to be among people, wanted to be a part of the world. Some argument was initially made but Hannibal was pleased when they’d come to an agreement as Abigail chose to live in the city of Milan and Will and Hannibal found a place on the outskirts of the Lombardy Region. It wasn’t Florence, and Hannibal would still have to make sure to take the two there someday, but he already felt far more at home in Italy than he had in Argentina.

Here, Hannibal felt ready to really settle again. He planned to show Will and Abigail many of the beauties of Europe of course, but the idea of having a home to always return to, to really settle in and do with it what he wished, was incredibly appetizing.

Nevertheless, being in Europe did mean there was one last thing Hannibal needed to finish. He had told Abigail and Will of it obviously, no longer hiding his history. However, they both agreed that it was for him to do and him alone. While he was gone on the two day trip, Will would be helping Abigail pick out furniture for her new apartment, something which Hannibal found rather amusing considering Will’s very different ideas of what constituted as _necessary_ for a living space mixed with Abigail’s own ideas of what constituted as style.

Hannibal put those thoughts aside though when he finally got in his car and drove the eight hours it took to get to Paris. It had been some time since he’d been in France but he would leave later times to enjoy what the country had to offer. He focused on getting to the address he had managed to find instead.

He drove past the apartment first, finding somewhere else to park and then waited for a moment when he saw the wife leave. They had children as well, Hannibal had learned, though all were grown up and had moved away.

Hannibal adjusted his hat which would obscure his face from any security cameras and went to the door. He easily got inside the building with the quick explanation of having lost his key, making sure to speak in immaculate French. He then went up to the room and knocked on the door, only having to wait a few seconds before the man answered.

Not waiting for a response, Hannibal pushed himself in, managing to close the door firmly behind him. The man reached for a gun (it seemed old habits died hard) but the man was not as young as he had once been. Hannibal was faster, covering his mouth to stop any cries as he shoved the man back into the living room and to the ground, pinning him there with his body.

The man stopped struggling when their eyes finally met and Hannibal knew he had been recognized. The acceptance and lack of surprise was answer enough but Hannibal wished to hear it from his lips.

Kolnas would have needed to start at the beginning to even have a chance of finding Hannibal. It meant he had gone back to Lithuanian but even more likely he had gone to Paris. There were other avenues that Kolnas could have used to track down Lady Murasaki but Hannibal’s instinct told him that he’d gone through the avenue right beneath him.

“A man came to you some months ago,” murmured Hannibal, slipping into English. “I doubt you even knew who he was but he was asking after me and you lead him to Lady Murasaki.”

Hannibal slowly eased his hand off the mouth and waited for the answer.

“Oui.”

“She’s dead because of you,” Hannibal said, his voice still soft, tone unmoving. “But you knew that. You knew I would come if I was not dead as well.”

“Oui.” Perhaps Kolnas had threatened his own family. Maybe he had offered him money. Or perhaps nothing had been gained in the exchange of information. No matter why the man had done it, at least he didn’t try to deny his involvement, he didn’t make up excuses. There was acceptance in the former inspector’s face, something which made a decision for Hannibal.

“Do not worry Popil. I have no interest in killing your wife or stringing you up,” said Hannibal. Looking at the man, he decided he must be in his late seventies if not eighties by then. “You will die with dignity. It’s certainly more than you deserve.”

Hannibal didn’t wait for a response, hand shooting out near him to grab a pillow off the rather close couch. He put it over the old man’s face before he could cry out and made sure to pull back as far as possible so as to avoid the man scratching him. When his movements started to ease and finally stopped all together, Hannibal still waited a moment longer before finally getting off of him.

Smoothing out the pillow, he put it back in its place and then put Popil onto the couch as well. He arranged him in a way that almost looked like he was sleeping. He then did a quick inspection of the place but upon finding nothing that needed to be cleaned, Hannibal said goodbye to Popil and left.

He could have stayed the night in Paris but decided to drive through it instead. The driving helped to calm him and eased any remaining tension out of his body. By the time that he arrived back home, just after four in the morning, he was perfectly at peace again.

Walking into the home, Hannibal took his time appreciating his new surroundings, both what was there and what Hannibal planned to add on in the coming weeks. As he stood there, it didn’t take long for the dogs to awaken and welcome him back, Liz and Precious immediately coming to his side. The cat was gone though, Abigail having taken Orten to her new apartment. Hannibal bent down to pet the dogs, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips when he noticed a new edition.

He glanced behind the German Shepherd to see Will walking over, hair tousled from sleep.

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since last I saw you,” Hannibal said as he stood up. “If this is what happens when I even leave you alone for a second, I suppose I won’t be able to ever let you out of my sight again.”

“That doesn’t sound to bad to me,” chuckled Will as he came over and lightly kissed him. His face grew serious for a moment as he asked, “It’s finished?”

Hannibal nodded, allowing himself a satisfactory smile.

Will smiled as well. “Good. In that case, meet Monty.”

Hannibal rolled his eyes as he offered up his hand to the cautious dog. As the dog sniffed his hand, seemed content with that, and then walked away, Hannibal asked, “Do I even want to know?”

“He was just a stray we found,” chuckled Will as he kissed him again. “Though we did come across this horribly rude man.”

“Oh?”

“It turns out he fancies Abigail.” Will laughed again, this time more fully as his eyes gleamed with mischief. “She invited him over for dinner.”


End file.
